Work Text:
Zhou Zishu was waiting.
It seemed he had been waiting all his life.
He had been waiting to understand his purpose in Tian Chuang, as more and more people around him died.
He had been waiting for time to trickle by so he could leave Tian Chuang, gritting his teeth through the pain.
He had been waiting for freedom as his body weakened, as his senses began to fade.
He had been waiting for the end, as he let his feet take him wherever he wanted to go, drifting without direction while soaked in wine and bathed in sunlight, letting the world pass him by…
Then his zhiji had found him, and he thought perhaps, this was what he really had been waiting for all of his life, only to come upon it too late, with nowhere near enough time left.
But luck had not abandoned him entirely, for salvation was on its way with old friends who were travelling even now to aid him. Zhou Zishu did not know what he had done to deserve this, to deserve being saved from his own mistakes and well-deserved punishment, but he would not turn it down, not when he had finally met his zhiji, not when he had finally found Wen Kexing.
While he waited for Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi’s arrival, Zhou Zishu had offered Wen Kexing a place in Siji Manor, and he had seemed to accept it, albeit with wide-eyed surprise. As with all things when it came to Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu had waited for him to settle into the place, to calm from his initial skittishness, to stop looking like he was waiting to be ejected from the empty, echoing manor at any moment. He had waited as Wen Kexing unconsciously took on the mantle of the second disciple of Siji Manor, training Zhang Chengling as well with a natural patience. He had waited even as he told Zhang Chengling to wait, not to push Wen Kexing unnecessarily when it came to his identity as Zhang Chengling’s shishu.
Once Wen Kexing had seemed to embrace his place in Siji Manor, Zhou Zishu then waited for Wen Kexing to break down the final barrier between them; the so-called secret identity Wen Kexing had tried so hard to conceal from Zhou Zishu. He could tell Wen Kexing had never wanted him to know the truth, even though he had already been aware of it for a very long time. Oh, Wen Kexing had thought he had so cleverly concealed his identity, had doggedly kept up his web of lies, but he really hadn’t tried hard enough to hide his reactions from Zhou Zishu. And in the end, Zhou Zishu’s years as a spymaster meant that it was almost painfully easy to see through Wen Kexing’s subterfuge.
When it came to Wen Kexing, what was a little waiting? Zhou Zishu had waited so long for Wen Kexing to turn up in his life so it was no hardship to wait a little longer for Wen Kexing to reveal his manifold secrets, for Wen Kexing to be ready to be truly open with him. With anyone else, Zhou Zishu would have pushed for the truth, would have found ways to ruthlessly dig out every single detail that had been buried away in flesh and bone. But he could never do that to Wen Kexing, could not bear the idea of cutting into old wounds just to expose the paltry truth.
In the end, it had been Ye Baiyi who had forcibly torn away Wen Kexing’s masks in their fight for their lives. Zhou Zishu had not wanted the revelation to happen that way, had avoided pushing because of those very tears and fear in Wen Kexing’s eyes, but in the end, the truth was exposed regardless of their wishes. Despite the initial inflicted pain, perhaps it wasn’t all terrible to have everything now laid out in the open. The only truth left to uncover was a confession to Zhang Chengling, but there was time yet for that.
Considering everything that had been revealed, all the secrets stripped bare, the only thing Zhou Zishu did not quite understand was...
...why hadn’t Wen Kexing joined him in bed yet?
Even this final lie between them was gone.
What was holding Wen Kexing back?
Zhou Zishu had waited for a lot of things in his life, was still waiting for Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi even now to come trotting up with a cure while his sense of taste and smell slowly faded away to nothing. While Zhou Zishu was ready to wait a lifetime for Wen Kexing, no matter how long or short that lifetime turned out to be, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to give Wen Kexing a little nudge this time around.
Perhaps what Wen Kexing needed was a little encouragement.
1. The direct approach can bear quick results.
“A-Xu, my eyes are tired,” Wen Kexing complained, propping his chin up on his hand and abandoning the needle and cloth on the table.
From beneath his lowered lashes, Zhou Zishu had been watching those graceful hands gracelessly patch up the minor tear in the trousers, long fingers wielding the needle like it was a very small sword and the cloth had to be stabbed a hundred times to achieve his goal. Now he watched as that beautiful hand curled around Wen Kexing’s own cheek, cradling his sulking face.
“We have only been doing this for an incense stick’s worth of time,” Zhou Zishu pointed out, returning his gaze to where he was doing his own mending of Wen Kexing’s inner robes.
“But my eyes are already tired anyway,” Wen Kexing insisted, lashes lowering as he closed said eyes with a sigh, as if in demonstration of his exhaustion. “And I’m done with my mending.”
Zhou Zishu was mending the clothes that had been torn up after their fight with Ye Baiyi. The outer robes would require something beyond his expertise, but the inner robes could still be salvaged even though they would never look pleasing again. He had plenty of money to replace the outfits completely, but he had suddenly remembered long afternoons when Siji Manor’s disciples had sat together just like this, doing their mending while chattering about their day. Overcome by nostalgia and a longing for what he could have had with Wen Kexing as his shidi if things had been different, Zhou Zishu had dragged Wen Kexing in to do the same, leaving Zhang Chengling to practice and master Flowing Steps Across the River.
While Zhou Zishu had worked on the much more badly torn clothing, he had given Wen Kexing a pair of trousers with a tiny hole in the hem of one leg to mend, because Zhou Zishu wasn’t sure of his skills yet in this area. He had been right to have his reservations. The tiny hole in his trousers had been patched with so many clumsy stitches that they made a rather unsightly bulge.
This was the strange inconsistency he had noticed about Wen Kexing. While he seemed strangely proficient in some matters, he was not self-sufficient at all in other areas, especially considering how he had grown up in Ghost Valley. It left Zhou Zishu curious, but it wasn’t a topic that could be easily broached, not when Wen Kexing was so jumpy when his past was brought up.
Wen Kexing was very good at cooking and particularly skilled at turning a simple meal with limited supplies into something delicious and fragrant, could start a cooking fire anywhere and had endless skills in handling any kind of game. He was good at tending to someone’s hair as Zhou Zishu had seen when Wen Kexing had woven Gu Xiang’s hair into an intricate arrangement of braids and loops in a moment of boredom. Yet he made a terrible mess every time he tried to fold Zhou Zishu’s robes for him, and any time Zhou Zishu looked into Wen Kexing’s room, he found his blankets heaped in an uneven lump at the end of his bed, a lacklustre result of his attempts at tidying. Wen Kexing wielded a broom like a spear, his sweeping including a strange amount of stabbing motions, and he had been quick to leave all such cleaning chores to Zhang Chengling instead.
If Zhou Zishu were to speculate, he would assume that cleaning was not a priority within the Ghost Valley, so it was not something Wen Kexing had to focus on learning while he was growing up. Then later, as the Ghost Valley Master, he had other people to tend to his clothing and the tidiness of his surroundings. Meanwhile, eating was a necessity, and Wen Kexing had clearly learned at some point how to feed himself and Gu Xiang well. But his proficiency with hairstyles would remain a mystery.
“You’ve only mended one tiny hole for my trousers,” Zhou Zishu pointed out peevishly. “While I have mended this long tear Ye Baiyi left in your inner robes.”
Wen Kexing made a face. “I’ve already said we can just buy replacements. These clothes are surely too badly damaged by that old tortoise to be mended.”
His needle and hand still moving as he sewed without pause, Zhou Zishu said, “And I’ve already said it would be a waste when they can be easily mended. Are you not going to help me any further?”
Sighing, Wen Kexing pulled another washed but torn outfit towards him from where they were piled on the table. He gave Zhou Zishu a lingering look from beneath his lashes. “Your virtuous wife will accompany you of course.”
“Oh? When did I obtain a wife, let alone a virtuous one?”
“How could you say that, A-Xu?” Wen Kexing asked with feigned, wide-eyed hurt. “Would anyone but your virtuous wife prick their fingers a thousand times just to accompany you in this mundane chore?”
Finally, Zhou Zishu gave into the distraction Wen Kexing was clearly angling for and put down his sewing. Reaching out all of a sudden, Zhou Zishu took hold of those slender, tapered fingers and examined them for any injury. He felt Wen Kexing twitch in his hold, likely not expecting the sudden touch, but he ignored it. Wen Kexing’s hands were beautiful, with a musician’s grace, but his skin was much too calloused from practicing with all manner of weapons to easily be penetrated by a needle’s prick. There was not a single tiny injury from Wen Kexing’s clumsy attempts at mending.
Zhou Zishu looked up to catch Wen Kexing’s gaze and arched an eyebrow, not letting go of the lovely hand in his grasp. “If you’re my virtuous wife, then when are you going to fulfil your other wifely duties?”
Wen Kexing froze with his hand still captive in Zhou Zishu’s. He asked, “What...what duties?”
Slowly, Zhou Zishu brushed his thumb over the center of Wen Kexing’s palm, a fleeting but meaningful touch. “Wife tending to husband duties of course.”
He watched as Wen Kexing’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide with surprise and his ears turning visibly red. His reaction genuinely surprised Zhou Zishu. Wen Kexing was constantly making admiring comments and spouting flirtatious poetry around Zhou Zishu, even hinting at lewd activities from time to time, but the slightest reciprocation from Zhou Zishu seemed enough to shock Wen Kexing into silence.
For a moment, they only stared at each other, Zhou Zishu awaiting Wen Kexing’s response with rising eagerness. He was hoping this was just a momentary shock, and soon, Wen Kexing would jump at the opportunity to take this where he had hinted at for so long now. Waiting with sharp and hungry anticipation, he wondered what Wen Kexing would say and do in response, what lewd suggestion would be spun out by that talented tongue.
To Zhou Zishu’s continued surprise, Wen Kexing withdrew his hand all of a sudden and leapt to his feet in a flurry of robes, exclaiming, “Of course! I must fulfil my wifely duties! I’ll prepare the most sumptuous feast for you, A-Xu.”
“Wait, that isn’t—” But Wen Kexing had fled out the door, leaving Zhou Zishu staring at the empty doorway, open-mouthed and empty-handed.
2. Test the waters to gauge the situation.
Zhou Zishu was certain that there must have been some misunderstanding. He tried again, making the kitchen his battleground instead when he followed after Wen Kexing’s panicked flight, albeit at a more sedate pace. Standing at the entrance, he watched as Wen Kexing deftly chopped the deep green gai lan1 into neat, even pieces. His gaze followed those graceful hands and how they handled the ingredients with ease, how they cleaned, chopped and stirred with a natural elegance. He idly wondered what it would be like if his senses had not faded so much; if he put those fingers into his mouth, would they taste green and leafy from the vegetables he handled or would they taste sharp and acrid from the garlic? Or would he instead taste the clean salt of Wen Kexing’s skin against his tongue?
With surprising difficulty, Zhou Zishu managed to rein in his sharp desire. They weren’t quite there yet, no matter his original expectations.
He watched until Wen Kexing began ladling out the fragrant mix of pheasant meat and vegetables onto a plate, then he stepped into the kitchen and made his presence known with a couple of conspicuous scuffs of his shoes against the floor. From Wen Kexing’s complete lack of reaction, he had obviously noticed Zhou Zishu’s presence from early on. Zhou Zishu observed his relaxed shoulders and calm profile, relieved to see that there was no sign of confusion or any urge to flee, not like earlier.
Instead, Wen Kexing only looked over his shoulder, his focused expression softening into one of welcome and happiness. Wen Kexing’s intent gaze, the way he radiated open warmth and desire around Zhou Zishu, were all a big part of why Zhou Zishu was certain that the interest was mutual.
In the beginning, Wen Kexing had been like a fixated cat in heat, chirping all kinds of nonsense to gain his attention and shamelessly clinging to him in an effort to discover all his secrets. But over time, as they traveled over rocky mountains and crossed turbulent rivers together, the sharp curiosity Wen Kexing had once bore changed, deepened into something new. Now, Wen Kexing’s eyes weren’t only appraising and curious; they were also soft with fondness, deep with longing. So in the comfort and safety of Siji Manor, Zhou Zishu felt certain that now would be the right time to further their relationship.
After all, if they waited too long, Zhou Zishu’s loss of senses would eventually worsen and there was no guarantee that Wu Xi could also reverse that kind of damage along with saving Zhou Zishu’s life. Zhou Zishu would appreciate anything Wu Xi could do for him, but he loathed the idea of losing even more of what he would be able to sense when he was with Wen Kexing, of losing even the opportunity to at least gain some memories with Wen Kexing while he still had any fraction more of his senses about him.
So he would try again, while observing Wen Kexing’s reaction.
“A-Xu, dinner is ready. I hope you’ll like it,” Wen Kexing said, holding out the plate as if Zhou Zishu might have missed the food he had cooked, very clearly asking for praise.
“Looks very delicious,” Zhou Zishu said, but his eyes weren’t on the plate of food in Wen Kexing’s hands. His heavy-lidded gaze was fixed instead on Wen Kexing’s face, a small inviting smile on his lips as a strong hint as to what exactly he was hungry for right now.
It was a good thing Zhou Zishu had learned to stop blushing over the years, otherwise his cheeks would most certainly be very heated from the blatant and artless flirtation he was employing. He didn’t have Wen Kexing’s same flair for romantic poetry and flowery words so this seemed like a safer gamble.
Wen Kexing stared in shocked silence, keeping completely still as if he had turned into a frozen bunny that had caught the scent of a nearby wolf.
Uncertainty set in and Zhou Zishu was just about to check his own expression to be sure there was nothing predatory in it, when he noticed the slow, sliding movement…
He swooped his hands down just in time to catch the dish that had been slipping out of Wen Kexing’s hold. With a sinking heart, Zhou Zishu straightened, the plate of food in hand, only a single piece of deep green vegetable having made its escape from the tipped plate to the floor.
“Lao Wen, are—”
Before Zhou Zishu could finish what he was saying, Wen Kexing said in a rush, “I had better find Chengling to get him for dinner as well. A-Xu, please put the food on the table, we’ll be there in a moment.”
Seeing as Zhang Chengling was in the front yard and was never late to dinner, this was a terribly flimsy excuse. But Wen Kexing had already swept out, sleeves still folded up to his elbows, hands unwashed, obviously more focused on leaving as quickly as possible than he was on his usual fastidiousness.
With a flutter of pale cherry robes disappearing around the doorway, Zhou Zishu found that his latest attempt at flirting had only left him alone in the kitchen, abandoned with nothing to show for his efforts but a plate of meat and vegetables that he couldn’t even taste.
3. Information gathering is crucial in preparation for missions.
Zhou Zishu had undertaken all manner of difficult missions in his time as the leader of Tian Chuang. Once, he had been tasked with stealing information from a Duke, and as it turned out, the information was stored in the secret compartment of a pendant he wore around his neck. Employing a sleep-inducing incense, Zhou Zishu had staked out the inn where the Duke had been staying, slipping into his room well after midnight to complete his mission. Right as Zhou Zishu had been about to lift the pendant off the Duke’s neck, one of the Duke’s guards experienced a rare side effect to the soporific, falling over in a violent seizure. He had knocked over a brazier, which made enough of a commotion that it had woken up the rest of the guards and the Duke from drug-induced slumber, right as Zhou Zishu was hovering over him, hand on his pendant.
Even that disastrous mission, which had resulted in rather a lot of bloodshed and complicated cover-up, had not left Zhou Zishu at as much of a loss as his attempts at flirting with Wen Kexing. Back then, Zhou Zishu had only gritted his teeth and fallen back onto his back-up plan, doing what was needed to stay alive and keep Prince Jin out of trouble. Now however, he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
Zhou Zishu had never been at such a loss.
Zhou Zishu was utterly unresigned to be at such a loss.
He had spent months in Wen Kexing’s company by now, and Wen Kexing was not subtle in his interest, was flagrantly flirtatious and shamelessly sticky. Why was Wen Kexing reacting so uncharacteristically to Zhou Zishu’s returned flirting attempts? As arrogant as it might sound, Zhou Zishu had expected Wen Kexing to respond far more enthusiastically to his reciprocation.
So he had decided to fall back on the first basic lesson driven in at Tian Chuang, which was the importance of going into a situation with all relevant, and even irrelevant, information. Information was power, and to begin a mission without full pertinent knowledge was akin to a death sentence in their line of work.
Perhaps Zhou Zishu had been too arrogant this time, too certain that he had a grasp of the full picture. He had committed an embarrassing rookie mistake, proceeding entirely on assumptions.
While he was certain in his ability to read people and did not think he had misunderstood the interest and desire in Wen Kexing’s behaviour, there were still a myriad of reasons for why one would shy away from physical intimacy. Some were related to natural causes...some less so. The latter was enough to cause an all-encompassing fury to darken the edges of Zhou Zishu’s vision in a way that he had not felt in a very long time, entertaining thoughts of blood-soaked savagery…
Not that someone the likes of Wen Kexing truly needed Zhou Zishu’s protective rage over his past, not when he had seen how the Ghost Valley Master, at the peak of his power now, enacted vengeance against any who slighted him.
Zhou Zishu decided to leave it for a few days, letting some time pass before he began his information gathering. Any concerns that Wen Kexing might withdraw in the meantime, might change his behaviour around Zhou Zishu, was dispelled quickly. Almost as if the two previous encounters had not occurred at all, Wen Kexing was back to his usual self, passing shameless comments and sticking close to Zhou Zishu at all times. Zhou Zishu kept his responses on the lighter side and was relieved to see that at least in this, Wen Kexing had not changed as they bantered back and forth.
While Wen Kexing had not changed fundamentally, Zhou Zishu had to laugh at himself, at his own unexpected shift in behavior and thought. Just a few months ago, Zhou Zishu would have considered it a blessing to immediately lose his hearing as a side-effect of the Nails every time he had to deal with Wen Kexing’s unexpected entrances and insinuating comments. Now, all that Zhou Zishu felt was relief that Wen Kexing’s behaviour had not changed, that Wen Kexing was still watching him with those dark, admiring eyes. Now, Zhou Zishu felt regret at how quickly his body was fading, was worried that if he didn’t act now, he might not even be able to feel or hear Wen Kexing anymore…
Which was why the information gathering had to be completed at speed.
Every morning, Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu would visit the traps they had set in the mountain at the back of Siji Manor, checking to see if they had caught any wild pheasants or deer. Wen Kexing would show Zhou Zishu how to forage for wild mushrooms, how to dig for wild vegetables that had flourished in the patches of land that had once been tended to by Siji Manor. While they did buy meat and vegetables on occasion from the nearby town, they both preferred to keep away from the bustle and unnecessary complications that came with interacting with more people outside of Siji Manor. It might be more work for less return, but they both enjoyed the daily sojourns to the mountainside for food.
Their morning ventures often felt more like a casual stroll through the beautiful wilderness, since their traps were often empty of any catch. Neither of them were terribly good at setting traps after all, since Zhou Zishu had spent most of his life within cities or towns where food could be purchased rather than caught, while Wen Kexing had said that the Ghost Valley’s terrain was much more stark than these lush mountains so his knowledge there wasn’t often applicable here.
It was not an uncommon occurrence for their trips to end with Wen Kexing lying in wait silently before using his fan or Zhou Zishu applying Swift Moving Steps to actually catch something for dinner, rather than relying on their traps. If only their various shifus knew what their martial arts were being used for these days.
“A-Xu, I think a little copper wire will help fix up the trap on the roof of Siji Manor,” Wen Kexing said, holding a small tree branch back so that Zhou Zishu could walk past on the path without having to duck his head.
“I’m sure we have some in the manor somewhere,” Zhou Zishu said distractedly as he tried to remember where they might have kept such a thing. There was bound to be such materials around for maintenance of all the traps they had in place, but he had never paid much attention to where such inventory was stored.
Wen Kexing sighed. “How is it that you don’t know where anything is in Siji Manor when you’re the one who has lived here before? Chengling had to tell you where to find the nails yesterday.”
“I haven’t lived here in years,” Zhou Zishu said in defense. “Can you remember all the details of your home from years ago?”
“Of course I do. But in fairness, I have lived in the same place since I was a child.”
Zhou Zishu realised this would be a good way to segue into his planned information gathering. As Wen Kexing bent down to check a pit they had dug under a tree and covered up with branches and leaves, Zhou Zishu asked in a casual tone, “You lived mostly in Ghost Valley all this time?”
“Not mostly. All the time, to be precise. Only after I became the Ghost Valley Master did I begin visiting the world outside of the Ghost Valley.”
“Oh… That must have been very difficult, growing up in the Ghost Valley.”
There was nothing in the trap they had dug, so Wen Kexing straightened up. He seemed at ease with the subject, lips turning up as he said, “Well, adversity produces shining talent.”
Even if it wasn’t for his information gathering plans, Zhou Zishu wanted to know, had always wanted to know, but hadn’t wanted to push Wen Kexing to share. Now that Wen Kexing seemed open to talking about the topic, Zhou Zishu asked, “What did...you experience? Growing up in the Ghost Valley?”
Wen Kexing looked at him in surprise, eyebrows going up. “Do you really want to know? It is an unpleasant topic for such a beautiful morning.”
Any other time, Zhou Zishu would let Wen Kexing decide if he wanted to share his past, unwilling to push for more unless Wen Kexing volunteered first. But in recent days, Zhou Zishu had realised that perhaps there were some topics that did need to be discussed if they were to proceed along this path together.
“If you’re willing to talk about it, I will always want to hear about the parts of your life that I wasn’t able to be there for, Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu said in a rare moment of open honesty.
“A-Xu…” Wen Kexing said, startled, his footsteps coming to a standstill as he stared at Zhou Zishu with an open mouth. But Zhou Zishu just remained quiet, holding his gaze and not saying anything to move them onto less personal, less emotional topics.
Taking a deep breath, Wen Kexing looked away and continued walking again, his right sleeve brushing up against the bushes that crowded into the narrow, sandy path they had been following every morning. Zhou Zishu walked by his side, holding up a vine that hung across the pathway for them both to pass. He didn’t say a word, letting Wen Kexing take as much time as he needed.
Wen Kexing began, voice quiet but calm, “I was mostly under the protection of the Ghost Valley Master of that time and Luo-yi. The Ghost Valley Master thought I had potential to be his pet killer, to be used to carry out his dirty work. I was a quick study at martial arts and I was already rather...aggressive as a child. If you’re wondering about any difficult experiences I had growing up, then I can say I was mostly fortunate as most of the torture I underwent was at his own hand, because he wanted me to fear only one person in my life. He left me alone to feed and raise myself, only calling on me to assign tasks or for a reminder of who was the master and who was the slave.”
The torture and undoubtedly miserable childhood was described casually, without much concern. There was no attempt to make it sound better or worse than what it was, simply a statement of fact. Wen Kexing’s words did not seek to solicit sympathy, but nonetheless, Zhou Zishu felt a deep ache within, as if his guts had been scraped out with every word, as he recalled that cute, happy child of his memories, his cheerful shidi...going through all of this.
Even though Zhou Zishu almost did not want to know, was almost afraid to find out now that he had actually reached this point, he asked with a voice gone faintly hoarse, “What kind of torture?”
Wen Kexing looked to Zhou Zishu, seeming surprised at whatever he could see on Zhou Zishu’s face. Then his voice softened and he asked, “What are you imagining, A-Xu?”
“Tell me the truth, Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu pleaded, grasping Wen Kexing’s wrist beneath his layers of sleeves, pulling him to a stop. He didn’t think he could keep walking and listening to this at the same time, not without sending himself careening over some tree root and smashing himself unconscious on a rock. Perhaps that would be a relief.
Frowning, Wen Kexing said, “Whipping, beatings, a few broken bones and sword wounds from training. A-Xu, you look a little pale, maybe we should go back…”
“That was when you were a child?” Zhou Zishu felt like he was bleeding out internally, imagining that chubby-cheeked child crying as he was whipped...crying as…
“It was a very long time ago,” Wen Kexing said softly, almost comfortingly.
How ridiculous that Wen Kexing was the one who felt he had to comfort Zhou Zishu over this.
“Anything else?” Zhou Zishu persisted.
Wen Kexing looked puzzled, tried to lighten the mood with a smile as he asked, “Was that not enough?” Then realization flashed across his eyes and Wen Kexing shook his head quickly, turning his hand so that Zhou Zishu wasn’t just gripping his wrist, so that they were clasping hands instead. “A-Xu, no. Whatever you’re imagining… The Ghost Valley Master’s taste did not run that way.”
It didn’t make Zhou Zishu feel better, but it was still a relief to hear. He nodded, a little jerkily.
Wen Kexing tugged him forward by the hand, moving them through the dense undergrowth with practiced ease. “It wasn’t all terrible. Luo-yi protected me when she could and tended to my injuries. She made sure I didn’t starve to death that first year. Then I found A-Xiang, and I had her company as well… So don’t imagine whatever it is you’re imagining, A-Xu.”
Relief that it wasn’t the worst of his expectations warred with his heartfelt ache at Wen Kexing’s brutal suffering as a child.
Zhou Zishu decided to go over the information he had gathered so far some other day, to leave his plans for another time. For now, he would just walk with his Lao Wen, hand-in-hand through the thick forest, letting the dappled sunlight that played across the path as they walked under ancient, towering trees ease the cold ache he gained from hearing about a past best left behind.
4. Selecting the most appropriate time and location is key to success.
Over the next few days, they both opened up a little more about their pasts, what had happened to them and what they had done in the many years spent growing up apart. Wen Kexing touched lightly on the horrors that he experienced, but mostly he spoke about the odd things he had learned from Luo-yi — his nimble skill with women’s hair styles was one of them — and the escapades he had raising Gu Xiang all on his own. Luo-yi had limited capability to protect them, as she had to prioritise her womenfolk first and foremost regardless of the debt she owed Wen Kexing’s parents, so in the end, Wen Kexing had to grow up very quickly to be able to keep Gu Xiang safe.
Zhou Zishu shared his own stories of his time in Siji Manor and the funnier mishaps from having to assume the role of Siji Manor’s Lord at the clumsy age of sixteen. He told very brief accounts of what he had done in Tian Chuang, shared the occasional amusing anecdote involving the messy lives of the ridiculous nobility he had encountered, but mostly left out all the murder and monstrous deeds he had done or facilitated in the name of bringing peace to Hedong. He was sure that Wen Kexing had similar experiences that he had decided not to elaborate upon.
The both of them drew closer together, talking late into the night after Zhang Chengling had gone to sleep. Most nights, Wen Kexing would help with the weakness and pain caused by the Nails, either with the low, soothing notes of his flute, or by passing qi directly to him. Where once Zhou Zishu would balk at depending so much on another, he accepted the help without hesitance now. He would offer the same and more to Wen Kexing in a situation where their positions were reversed, and he believed Wen Kexing would accept it in turn. Having his zhiji now meant being able to rely on someone else other than himself for once in his life.
From all that he had learned, Zhou Zishu believed his conclusions the first time around had not been wrong. Perhaps the approach was the problem instead, and he had not chosen the best time and place to further their relationship.
Wearing soft gray robes, Zhou Zishu leaned against the open door to Wen Kexing’s room, watching as he flipped through a book. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows on his face, making him seem warmer and more approachable. Not that Wen Kexing had ever been unapproachable, not where Zhou Zishu was involved.
Perhaps sensing the gaze on him, Wen Kexing looked up, the pleasure that filled his eyes at the sight of Zhou Zishu visible even from across the room.
Zhou Zishu lifted the small glazed jar in his hand. “Would Philanthropist Wen be interested in a drink with this humble one under the full moon tonight?”
Wen Kexing’s answering smile was bright enough to light the room all on its own even if all the candles went out. He put his book aside and got up. “Philanthropist Wen can think of no better way to spend the night. Raise a cup to toast the moon with me. With the moon, you and I will make three.2”
They reclined on the sloping roof of Siji Manor, bathing under the silver moonlight that graced the dark skies from a round, heavy moon that seemed to sit unnaturally low tonight. Zhou Zishu had only brought one jar of rice wine, the best of Kaoliang that he had unearthed from Siji Manor’s stores. He had not been as enamored with drinking when he had left Siji Manor before, so had not taken their wine supplies with them at that time.
Zhou Zishu took a mouthful of wine, before passing the same jar to Wen Kexing, sharing it between the two of them. There was only the faintest burn of alcohol in the back of Zhou Zishu’s throat, but otherwise, he might as well be drinking water. He could no longer taste the wine, could not tell if it was good wine or not.
He watched as Wen Kexing’s lips wrapped around the mouth of the jar that Zhou Zishu’s own lips had touched just a moment ago, watched as that beautiful throat worked as Wen Kexing swallowed. If Zhou Zishu kissed him right now, he would no longer be able to learn what Wen Kexing tasted like with wine on his lips. But if Zhou Zishu pressed up close to Wen Kexing, he might still be able to smell Wen Kexing’s breath, would still be able to hear his breath stutter and deepen…
Zhou Zishu was unwilling to lose any more of Wen Kexing to his fading senses.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Wen Kexing said, content as he stared up at the full moon.
Not as beautiful as you, Zhou Zishu wanted to say, sincerely believing it as he stared at Wen Kexing’s handsome face gilded by silver light, dark hair gleaming white under the light, but was afraid that it would send Wen Kexing fleeing once more. And the words might come across as shallow flattery, like words any heartless young master might spout when trying to coax a plaything into his bed.
“Not as beautiful as you of course,” Wen Kexing added, turning a look at Zhou Zishu.
Zhou Zishu should have remembered that Wen Kexing unfortunately was not above such shameless flattery. If only Wen Kexing was trying to coax Zhou Zishu into his bed…
“I suppose you say that to all the beautiful men you meet in your life,” Zhou Zishu said, feeling a little miffed that Wen Kexing was all talk but unwilling to put his words into action.
Wen Kexing shook his head, handing the jar back to Zhou Zishu as he said, “That is a slight to my reputation, A-Xu. These are words I have only ever shared with one person.”
Zhou Zishu lowered his lashes in a way that he knew would cast low shadows on his cheekbones and lifted the jar to his lips, tipping his head back to drink down a generous mouthful. Then he looked up at Wen Kexing from beneath his lashes, noting how he seemed frozen in place as he stared at Zhou Zishu.
With provocative slowness, Zhou Zishu ran his tongue along his lower lip before lapping delicately at the corner of his upturned mouth, catching a drop of wine that had escaped. Wen Kexing’s eyes were wide, fixed on Zhou Zishu’s lips as if he would find the secret to immortality in the shape of Zhou Zishu’s slick mouth.
Unwittingly, Wen Kexing leaned closer, and Zhou Zishu felt a surge of excitement that finally, finally, he was getting somewhere…
“Shifu, shishu! What are you doing up there?”
Zhang Chengling’s curious voice broke the intense moment between them, shattering the building tension and sultry atmosphere that Zhou Zishu had put so much pains into creating.
“Chengling, can’t you see that your shifu and shishu are busy?” Zhou Zishu asked through gritted teeth.
But Wen Kexing was already pulling back and calling down to Zhang Chengling who was peering up at them from where he was standing below the roof, “We’re admiring the full moon tonight. Do you want to join us?”
Zhou Zishu wanted to protest strongly that his disciple should not be joining them, should in fact be going to bed as soon as possible and blocking his ears to anything that was going to occur on this perfect night. But the bright moonlight gave him a clear view of Wen Kexing’s bright red ears, the way Wen Kexing wouldn’t meet Zhou Zishu’s stare and had one hand nervously clutching the side of his pale pink robes. Wen Kexing was uncomfortable, and Zhou Zishu never wanted him to be uncomfortable, not when they were together.
It didn’t matter in the end. Zhang Chengling was too oblivious to notice the hint in Zhou Zishu’s voice. He had quickly clambered up onto the roof at Wen Kexing’s invitation, proving to be much more nimble now after all the training he had done with the different forms of Swift Moving Steps.
“Oh, are you drinking up here? Can I have some too?” Zhang Chengling asked, quickly settling beside Zhou Zishu on the roof.
“Not a single drop,” Zhou Zishu told him heartlessly, ignoring the pout.
Of course, Wen Kexing said, “Chengling is almost an adult now. He should be able to drink some wine.”
“If you want to give him any, you can go down and fetch more on your own. I’m drinking all of this one.”
“A-Xu, you’re so mean to us, you can’t just hog all the wine.”
“Watch me,” Zhou Zishu muttered, taking another deep swallow of the wine.
He might have lost his sense of taste, but he could at least still get drunk, which he was planning to do on this now wretched night with his plans having gone awry once more.
5. Arrange for back-up depending on the difficulty of the mission.
Zhou Zishu decided it was time to take drastic measures.
From Wen Kexing’s reaction last night, it was undeniable that there was a mutual attraction between them. So why did he react like a stunned rabbit every time Zhou Zishu returned his flirtation and hinted that he was open to something more? This morning, Zhou Zishu was unfortunately not drunk anymore, and he was further displeased to find Wen Kexing sending guilty looks in his direction. So Wen Kexing did have an inkling of how the night would have developed if he hadn’t invited Zhang Chengling up to join them, which meant he had done it on purpose, to diffuse the perfect atmosphere.
Why? Zhou Zishu absolutely refused to believe he had read Wen Kexing so wrongly, not when Wen Kexing was constantly sending longing gazes or heated stares in his direction. The mixed messages were very, very frustrating.
Well, Zhou Zishu had been the leader of Tian Chuang for enough years to know the right levers to pull to get what he wanted. Admittedly, there was also a small, petty part of him — only a very small part, he told himself — that wanted to see Wen Kexing suffer a little for his confusing behavior.
That afternoon, they headed down to Chang’an, the nearest town to Siji Manor. They were going to the Wolong shop to replenish Wen Kexing’s diminished supplies of those disgusting walnuts he loved so much. Usually, they would send Zhang Chengling to run this errand, but today, Zhou Zishu had suggested a horse-ride into town as he wanted to replenish their supplies of medical herbs. Despite Wen Kexing behaving out of sorts, he still followed along, sticking close to Zhou Zishu’s side.
After they left their horses at the town’s entrance with the old man who tended to the stables there, Zhou Zishu picked a circuitous path to the Wolong shop. He chose the way that would bring them past the Ming Yue wine shop, with its three tables outside for customers to enjoy their wine under the sun. It was the hour of the Sheep, and if that person’s routine had not changed, he should be…
“Zhou Xu!” called out a deep voice. “It has been awhile since you’ve been in town! Ah, I’ve missed your company.”
Beside him, Wen Kexing stiffened, shedding his relaxed demeanour quicker than one could shed their outer robes.
Zhou Zishu slowed his steps and turned with an amiable smile to the man sitting at the table by Ming Yue’s entrance. The man who had called out in such a friendly way to Zhou Zishu was an older gentleman, tall and distinguished looking with a hint of silver at his brow and smiling lines to soften his angular, handsome features. He was dressed in light, pale green robes, the air of a free-spirited traveller about him as he sat there with a large sword leaning against the table and a cup in hand.
“Yang He, it has been too long,” Zhou Zishu said with a nod, returning the greeting.
He could practically feel Wen Kexing bristling beside him, and he had to stifle the smile that threatened to tip his lips up so as not to give the game away so soon. Despite Wen Kexing’s hesitation over furthering their relationship, he was nonetheless ready to drive away any other people he deemed as potential rivals, which could well be the whole world, based on Wen Kexing’s past reactions.
Anyone with half of Zhou Zishu’s observation skills would have noticed that Wen Kexing was an intensely possessive and jealous man. He did not tolerate anyone in Zhou Zishu’s personal space, could not even put up a pretense of forbearance when Zhou Zishu put an extra good word in about anyone else.
Wen Kexing was like a large, self-domesticated wolf, wagging his tail around Zhou Zishu, but turning around to snap at anyone else who encroached on Zhou Zishu’s space.
To be fair, Zhou Zishu did nothing to curb Wen Kexing’s tendencies. He had no interest in other people after all, so he hardly minded Wen Kexing’s possessiveness. Zhou Zishu himself was not too different from Wen Kexing in this regard, so he understood the sentiment. The only difference was that while Wen Kexing was very blatant about his possessiveness, Zhou Zishu was much more subtle though no less effective.
A carefully placed hand on Wen Kexing’s arm, while making pointed eye contact with anyone whose eyes lingered a little too long had been enough to ward off potential suitors so far. With Wen Kexing’s good looks, impressive stature and languid charm, Zhou Zishu had had to fend off quite a lot of interest in the time he had known Wen Kexing. Should he meet more persistent interest in Wen Kexing, he would be sure to change his methods of handling it accordingly.
So they both had their own ways of dealing with all the interested butterflies fluttering around. His intention was to stir up Wen Kexing’s jealousy, see if that was enough to overcome his reticence towards taking the next step in their relationship. To do that, Zhou Zishu was roping in some help, even if said help was not aware of the real role he was playing.
“Why don’t you sit down and have a drink with me then, to make up for all those days you’ve left me waiting here,” Yang He suggested, his smile warm and welcoming.
Yang He had a terribly irritating habit of speaking with people like he had great familiarity with them, a charming roguish disposition of referring to promises that had never been made, which tended to cause people to feel flustered and go along with what he said. When they had just returned to Siji Manor, Zhou Zishu had met Yang He for the first time on his trip down to Chang’an to restock supplies in the empty manor, and he had grasped Yang He’s shameless, flirtatious personality right away. Zhou Zishu had only ever spoken to Yang He twice more since then, but Yang He behaved like they were well-acquainted with a long history between them. He had decided to avoid Yang He since their last tedious meeting, until today, when he realised there was some use to Yang He’s bad habits.
Before Zhou Zishu could speak, Wen Kexing stepped closer so that half his body was between Yang He and Zhou Zishu, his white fan snapping open as he lazily waved it in front of him. The slow, rhythmic movement of that fan somehow failed to convey placidness or laziness, coming across instead as murderous somehow, like the fan was moving to the beat of a war drum.
“And who might this gentleman be?” Wen Kexing asked, his tone bright with a friendliness so sharp, it was almost vicious.
Yang He looked up at Wen Kexing, dressed today in a deep blue-green shade, shoulders broad and imposing, a lethal smile on his face. Leaning back lazily in his seat, Yang He cupped his fist in greeting as he said, “I am Yang He, a lowly scholar who goes where the wind will blow me, following the change of the season.”
“A lowly scholar with a sword?” Wen Kexing asked with a heavy dose of skepticism, not sparing a glance for the wrapped sword leaning against the table, as if it wasn’t worth his attention. It was obvious that he was choosing not to introduce himself in turn.
“Scholarly pursuit can be surprisingly intense,” Yang He said with a lopsided, charming grin, clearly inviting them both in on the joke.
While Wen Kexing clearly had no interest in accepting the invitation, Zhou Zishu decided to play along. “Yang He, this is Wen Kexing, second disciple of Siji Manor, my shidi whom I have mentioned before.”
With this familiar form of introduction by Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing’s ruffled feathers settled down somewhat.
Which wouldn’t do of course.
So Zhou Zishu added, “You both have common interests in poetry and scholarly texts, far more than I do. How about we share a drink while you both talk? It is rare for like-minded individuals to meet.”
Unsurprisingly, to be considered like-minded to Yang He immediately caused Wen Kexing to give Zhou Zishu a look of great offense, his affronted expression akin to one of a cat that had stepped into a muddy puddle.
Wen Kexing tried to usher them along. “We have a lot to do this afternoon, we surely don’t have the time—”
“There’s no rush,” Zhou Zishu said, sitting down across from Yang He who was already grinning in welcome. “Your Wolong nuts will still be there if you get them a little later.”
With great reluctance, Wen Kexing arranged himself on the bench next to Zhou Zishu, sitting nearer than was normally done in public. But Zhou Zishu did not protest the proximity; he was hoping for this very behavior after all.
“Why the sudden interest in poetry, A-Xu? You never showed any interest in poetry in the past,” Wen Kexing said with a sour frown.
Zhou Zishu was always amazed by the truths that Wen Kexing chose to wear openly on his face and the secrets he would hide away into the deepest recesses of his being. In the past, Wen Kexing had taken great pains to hide his identity, would rather die than admit who he truly was to Zhou Zishu and Zhang Chengling even though the truth had been so painfully obvious to Zhou Zishu already. Yet Wen Kexing also flaunted his jealousy without a care, letting all know that he wasn’t happy when Zhou Zishu’s attention was on someone else, as if he had no fear of gossip or coming across as overly needy.
Zhou Zishu decided to oblige Wen Kexing’s jealousy. He said, “It’s because Master Yang’s poetry recital has a depth that is unmatched.” Ignoring Wen Kexing’s sputtering of outrage, he turned to Yang He with a smile. “Have you come up with any new poems of late?”
“My poetic feelings are like a magpie in the night sky, circling three times, it still cannot settle on a branch.3,” Yang He said mournfully, affecting a look of despair. Then he dropped his pretense and smiled at Zhou Zishu. “But perhaps that will change now that you’re here. Your absence left me bereft of inspiration.”
Snapping his fan shut, Wen Kexing spoke sharply, “A leaky barrel will not fill even under the rain. A-Xu’s presence would be wasted on you.”
Yang He threw his head back and laughed. “That is true indeed. You have figured out my nature quickly enough, but I would appreciate it if you kept my secret to yourselves. In return, let me treat you to some wine!”
Before Wen Kexing could protest, Yang He waved over the young man who looked after the shop, ordering two jars of their best wine.
Arguing with Yang He was like punching cotton; an exercise in futility, with no result to be seen for it. Even without looking, Zhou Zishu could sense Wen Kexing’s ire at how he had failed to provoke a stronger reaction in Yang He. While Wen Kexing stewed in gloomy silence, Zhou Zishu and Yang He exchanged meaningless pleasantries until the rice wine arrived.
Zhou Zishu wondered what nonsense Wen Kexing was reading into their idle chatter about the new doufuhua4 stall at the end of the street and whether it was better than the other doufuhua stall on the next street. Truly riveting conversation. Zhou Zishu would have little patience for such talk if it wasn’t part of his plan.
When the wine arrived, Wen Kexing quickly grabbed a jar and poured the wine for both their empty cups, shooting Yang He a hilariously triumphant look, as if he had performed a great achievement by managing to snatch the task away from Yang He. In contrast, Yang He drank from his own cup, seeming to have missed the challenging look Wen Kexing had directed at him.
“The sky will snow with the arrival of eve, would you drink this cup with me?5” Yang He asked, holding his half-drunk cup out to Zhou Zishu.
Not to be outdone, Wen Kexing held his cup up as well and said, “My host says it’s been hard for us to meet, so drink a cup, ten times repeat.” He paused here and turned to Zhou Zishu deliberately, catching his eye before continuing, “But would ten cups cause inebriation, compared to our lifelong affection?6”
The warm, inviting look in Wen Kexing’s eyes, accompanied by a saccharine poem such as this one, left Zhou Zishu unexpectedly moved, his pulse skipping a beat under Wen Kexing’s gaze. He smiled in return, unable to do anything else.
“A poem well-chosen,” Yang He announced cheerily, interrupting the moment and seemingly uncaring that he had been upstaged. “I have long been an admirer of Du Fu as well.”
“I myself find Bai Juyi somewhat dull,” Wen Kexing said with a dismissive tilt of his wine cup as he looked back at Yang He with sharp annoyance. His words were utter bullshit of course, as Zhou Zishu had most definitely heard Wen Kexing quote Bai Juyi several times before, often directed at Zhou Zishu himself. After all, which pretentious bastard hadn’t quoted Bai Juyi before?
Once again, Yang He only smiled amiably. “Oh, that’s a shame. I rather like his poetry myself. I find his poems simplistic but his description evocative and more colorful, particularly when it comes to his poems about people.” Then, Yang He looked at Zhou Zishu with a slow smile, reciting with a deep, resonating voice, “When he turned his head and smiled, a hundred spells casting, all powder and paint of the Six Palaces, faded into nothing.7”
Usually, Zhou Zishu would roll his eyes at such blatant flirtation when it was coming from Wen Kexing. But he had a specific goal this time, so instead, he lowered his eyes, lashes dipping as he smiled slightly and took a drink of his tasteless wine like he was hiding a moment of shyness.
Flaring up as expected, Wen Kexing snapped open his fan in front of Zhou Zishu, abruptly cutting off Yang He’s line of sight. “Tarry not with your five-horse coach, for this one already has a man8,” he snarled.
Zhou Zishu could no longer see Yang He with the fan blocking him, but from his boisterous cheer, his flirtation with Zhou Zishu was abandoned in light of a good poetic repartee. “Good! Very good!” he proclaimed, refilling his cup and Wen Kexing’s. “Li Bai and that old ballad. I have always liked that poem of Li Bai’s, and considering his contention at court, I’ve always wondered if it was actually an allusion to the rejection of bribery from a corrupt official. If so, it’s particularly pertinent to be quoted now, considering our own capital is overrun by corrupt officials.”
The haughty pride on Wen Kexing’s face froze, and in turn, Zhou Zishu’s heart sank. The fan was still in front of Zhou Zishu’s face, so he couldn’t see Yang He’s expression, couldn’t see if Yang He noticed, but he didn’t care. All he cared about, all he had eyes for, was Wen Kexing.
That hint of hurt, of childish pain, was fleeting and gone in less than the time it took for ash to disappear in the wind. Wen Kexing was already drawing his usual mask around him as he lowered his fan and said, “You read too deeply into what was clearly a simple poem on the rejection of unwanted overtures.”
“Now, I cannot agree with that. We know that Li Bai was one for reckless political commentary, and there were surely many enemies he wanted to point sharp words at,” Yang He said, raising his cup idly.
Wen Kexing tipped his cup back as he drank as well, long throat working as he swallowed his wine. But Zhou Zishu did not join them this time. He had lost his stomach for this game he had started. While he had wanted a reaction from Wen Kexing, it was never this reaction. He wanted jealousy from Wen Kexing, wanted possessiveness. He never wanted to hurt Lao Wen, not now, not ever.
Because that had been hurt in his eyes, and Zhou Zishu knew why.
Through the hell of Ghost Valley, Wen Kexing had raised himself, learned all the things no one would expect a child to learn within such a murderous, cruel pit. He was skilled at multiple different martial arts, displaying an aptitude that must far outstrip the original masters. He spoke with a silver tongue, beautiful poetry and prose passing through his lips with ease, without thought. He was widely read, displaying an astounding memory for all manner of texts.
But where would a child raised in Ghost Valley had gotten his education from? Zhou Zishu was certain that Wen Kexing was self-taught in almost everything, from the literature he quoted to his murderous skill with a fan. Compared to most commonfolk, Wen Kexing was learned beyond imagining, with the kind of poise and grace only found in the very wealthy or those with imperial bloodlines. What he had taught himself was astounding, his grasp on literature already admirable even without the knowledge of his difficult past, a childhood that was only abundant in what it lacked.
None of that changed the fact that there were some nuances that one could not intuit simply from reading every book that one came across. Zhou Zishu was certain that Wen Kexing had not thought to consider if Li Bai’s Spring poem had any other deeper meaning when he had quoted it, which was the reason for his short but heartbreaking hurt. Whether or not Yang He’s analysis was no more than cow dung, it did not matter to Wen Kexing, because it did not change the evidence of how in some matters, Wen Kexing would always be lacking in regards to his literary study.
There was no doubt in Zhou Zishu’s mind that Wen Kexing did genuinely adore poetry, which was probably why he had read so widely, remembering every single poem and clever phrase that had passed under his gaze. The interest Wen Kexing displayed could not be feigned.
But the frequency with which he dropped quotes, uttered poetic lines, it was obvious that consciously or not, Wen Kexing felt he had something to prove. He needed the people around him to take him as one with a scholarly upbringing, as if he had gotten the education he had been owed, as the son of two renowned healers. He flaunted the breadth of his knowledge...until a few words of thoughtless praise from Yang He had exposed the gaps in Wen Kexing’s self-education.
It would have been impossible for Wen Kexing to have grasped all the nuances of every type of poem on his own, without the proper books and teachers, without discussions with peers and listening to analyses from respected scholars. Zhou Zishu had seen that flash of shock, the jarring reminder to Wen Kexing about what he had missed out on in his youth and how it could still follow him up to now, even when he was in the prime of his life, in the seat of great power.
Looking at Yang He and Wen Kexing exchanging barbs and commentary on poetry, Zhou Zishu suddenly lost all interest in continuing this farce.
He placed a hand on Wen Kexing’s wrist, stilling the way he was tapping his closed fan against the table as he debated sharply with Yang He, holding his own with skill and dramatic flair.
Wen Kexing quieted immediately at Zhou Zishu’s touch, turning to look at him with wide eyes. “A-Xu?”
“Let’s go get those nuts and go home, Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu said softly.
Dark eyes widened in surprise, but Wen Kexing only nodded, already standing up.
Smiling at this rare obedience, Zhou Zishu stood up as well with his hand still wrapped securely around Wen Kexing’s wrist. He turned to Yang He, remembering him at the last moment, and gave him a parting nod.
Unsurprisingly, Yang He only sighed and smiled good naturedly at them. He lifted his cup and said, “In this place you must now part from me, we lone dandelions on a thousand mile journey.9”
“This dandelion is not alone,” Wen Kexing fairly hissed, storming off with Zhou Zishu trailing after, still anchored together by Zhou Zishu’s grip on Wen Kexing’s wrist.
Behind them, Yang He only laughed in amusement. That was the fortunate thing about engaging the town lush and hedonist for a round of light flirtation; he bore no grudges and did not invest enough emotions in anyone to care particularly if one stayed or left.
It reminded Zhou Zishu of his own vagabond days, except he had had no interest in human company at all as well as a much less pleasant disposition overall. Oh, yes, and he had been dying slowly and excruciatingly, still was actually.
Thinking about it, he was nothing like Yang He.
Zhou Zishu walked away with Wen Kexing, immediately putting his attempted jealousy plot behind his back. He really must be rusty after his retirement from Tian Chuang, he mused. Before, he had been cut, burned, whipped and tortured when running Tian Chuang missions, but he had never had a mission fail so spectacularly and repeatedly as this one.
Wen Kexing sulked the entire way back to Siji Manor. Whenever he sulked, he never did it in silence. Instead, he would make pointed comments, shoot sideways looks at Zhou Zishu, and his movements would gain a sharper, more dismissive edge. His entire lanky frame would radiate, ‘Come and coax me, quick, coax me!’
While Zhou Zishu would like to pretend that he could hold up strong against such childish behavior, the truth was that he found it difficult to ignore Wen Kexing in such a mood. He was helpless against Wen Kexing in a true pout, when his feelings were genuinely hurt, not when he was putting on a front simply to further his ridiculous flirting. It was particularly effective right now when Wen Kexing had been hurt as an unintended result of Zhou Zishu’s machinations.
“You must be very bored these days to be looking to ride on two boats at the same time10,” Wen Kexing said in what would have been an idle tone if his hands weren’t tight on the reins of his horse.
How did Wen Kexing manage to sound like such a wronged wife when it still wasn’t clear what he wanted out of their relationship, keeping it in an ambiguous state every time Zhou Zishu tried to flirt back or speak to him?
But Zhou Zishu felt guilty regardless, and not even for the same reasons Wen Kexing was sulking. Perhaps that was why the sense of guilt was especially potent. Wen Kexing was only annoyed that Zhou Zishu had struck up a conversation with Yang He, who had clearly been flirting with him, and angered that Zhou Zishu had even sat down to share a drink with him instead of leaving immediately. But Zhou Zishu was instead guilt-ridden that he had started this jealousy ploy only to have ended up accidentally stabbing at Wen Kexing’s insecurity, causing him genuine pain.
That was something Zhou Zishu couldn’t tolerate, not even when it was a result of his own unwitting hand; Whatever he planned to do, he could not tolerate hurting Wen Kexing in the process.
“I had only wanted some wine,” Zhou Zishu said as an excuse, nudging his patient horse so that it stepped a little closer to the other steed, bringing Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing closer together on this journey back home.
“Some wine and some poetry, it seemed,” Wen Kexing said sharply, lips pressing together and corners turning down a little.
Zhou Zishu was staring at Wen Kexing’s elegant profile, willing him to look over, except Wen Kexing remained staring determinedly ahead, only the slight dip of his long lashes giving him away when he darted a quick look over at Zhou Zishu.
“Yes, I was interested in some wine and some poetry...because you were there.”
Finally, Wen Kexing turned to look at him, surprise written in his parted lips and wide eyes. “Truly?”
Rolling his eyes, Zhou Zishu said, “Lao Wen ah, the only person I tolerate so much poetry from is you. And didn’t we leave once you made it clear you were unhappy?”
It was a lie and the truth at the same time.
While Wen Kexing would take the explanation as Zhou Zishu only choosing to hold a conversation with another poetry-lover for his sake, due to his and Yang He’s shared interest in literature, the truth was that Zhou Zishu did only sit down to talk to Yang He because of Wen Kexing. If Wen Kexing hadn’t been there, he would not have spared Yang He another glance. Whether it was Yang He or someone else, it didn’t matter. The goal had been to inspire jealousy in Wen Kexing.
He had only talked to Yang He because Wen Kexing had been there.
And he had only left once he realized Wen Kexing had felt genuinely hurt, perhaps even inadequate.
So on the surface, all that he said was true.
It was a lie by omission, but Zhou Zishu did not want them to dwell on the topic of Yang He any further, not when it had already hurt Wen Kexing in such a vulnerable, well-hidden place.
Despite Wen Kexing’s usually outsized ego, Zhou Zishu could not bear to have that pride pricked, especially when it was over the painful past Wen Kexing had had to live through. It was why he had abandoned his plans immediately. His self-appointed mission was not as important as preserving Wen Kexing’s heart, even if he had hopes that the mission would ultimately bring greater happiness to the both of them. If this plan could hurt Wen Kexing, then he would come up with another plan if need be, or forget about the mission altogether.
While he wanted more with Wen Kexing, being with his zhiji in whatever way possible was good enough for Zhou Zishu as well.
Finally mollified, Wen Kexing’s soft, pink lips curved upwards with slight reluctance. “His recitation hurt my ears, and he looked vacuous. There was no joy in speaking about poetry with him,” Wen Kexing said, falsely maligning Yang He’s near perfect, scholarly recitations. He snapped open his fan and began leisurely fanning himself once more, a sure sign of his pleasant mood returning.
Zhou Zishu smiled fondly at the gigantic jar of vinegar pretending that his jealousy wasn’t at play at all. He would come up with something else. He wasn’t used to failing missions, so he would give this one last try. If it didn’t work, then so be it. Life in Siji Manor by Wen Kexing’s side, with Zhang Chengling scampering about, was more than he had ever expected he would get in the last dregs of his remaining time.
Filled with a sudden spike of amusement, Zhou Zishu said, “Race you back to Siji Manor! Whoever loses has to wash all the dishes!”
He dug his knees into his horse’s sides and shook its reins, spurring it on into a gallop. From behind him, he heard a cry of outrage as Wen Kexing did the same, trying to catch up while yelling all the way that Zhou Zishu was cheating and how could Wen Kexing be washing dishes when he already did all the cooking.
Well, who said the ex-leader of Tian Chuang would ever play fair?
+1. Throw all plans out the window.
Zhou Zishu sat at the table, considering all the information he had so far.
First, Wen Kexing was a shameless flirt, spouting the most outrageous praises and making the most suggestive comments towards Zhou Zishu.
Second, the way Wen Kexing looked at him over the past months had changed from curiosity and interest to something much softer and sincere, his feelings worn for all to see.
Third, Wen Kexing did not have a bad history involving intimacy, which had been a great relief for Zhou Zishu to find out.
Fourth, there was certainly some level of attraction between them, from the way Wen Kexing stared at his lips and leaned closer without seeming to notice what he was doing.
Fifth, the merest suggestion that Zhou Zishu might be interested in someone else would consistently result in Wen Kexing flaring up in jealousy and possessiveness.
Taking all that into account, Zhou Zishu was very certain that Wen Kexing would be interested in moving their relationship forward, to shift towards something that included physical intimacy. However, Wen Kexing ran away when he was flirted with, seemed absurdly ignorant of the many hints Zhou Zishu had dropped. Wen Kexing would pull Zhou Zishu away from someone else when jealous, but that would be as far as he would take it.
After tossing and turning over this for a few days, Zhou Zishu finally thought, ‘Fuck it.’
Perhaps he had gone about this the completely wrong way. He had spent so long out of Tian Chuang, determined to no longer be bound by those rigid ways, yet the moment he encountered a slightly difficult situation, he fell back onto old habits developed from his years as an unscrupulous spymaster. Why did he expect such prescriptive ways to work on someone as wild and unpredictable as Wen Kexing?
After all his failed plans, Zhou Zishu decided to do what he should have done in the first place.
It was already nighttime and they had all supposedly retired to their beds. They had once shared a room when they had first arrived at Siji Manor but now, many of the rooms had been restored and cleaned up enough for inhabitation. Each of them had their own room now, although it had felt a little lonely and quiet the first night Zhou Zishu had slept in the room that had once belonged to his shifu, free of soft snores and quiet nighttime snuffling.
Standing up, Zhou Zishu examined the white, sleeping robes that he was wearing. They were made of thin cotton, worn and comfortable from regular use. Thoughtfully, Zhou Zishu loosened the robes a little, ensuring that the collar dipped down past his collarbones to a point where it teased at indecency. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up slightly before sweeping his long hair over his shoulders.
The reflection in the bronze mirror on the table revealed a thoughtful, pointed face, with slightly dishevelled hair lending an air of dishabille to his look. He looked soft and comfortable in his sleeping robes, the collar low enough that there was a glimpse of the line between his pectorals, the barest shadow just visible above thin white cloth. While Zhou Zishu knew he wasn’t the most beautiful of men, he also knew he was handsome enough, had certainly used it when necessary in Tian Chuang. But more importantly, he knew that Wen Kexing liked whatever he saw in Zhou Zishu.
Why had Zhou Zishu been trying all those little gimmicks and plans when he already knew in his heart how Wen Kexing felt for him? Why did he try to flirt the way Wen Kexing did, or find the perfect setting and time? Why bring in third parties to complicate the matter?
All Zhou Zishu had really needed to do was be himself.
He took a quick trip to the kitchen before making his way to Wen Kexing’s room. Considering how Wen Kexing frequently barged into Zhou Zishu’s room without any forewarning, it seemed right to repay the favor.
Leaning against the doorframe lazily, he slid the doors of the room open without a single knock or greeting. He was rewarded with the sight of Wen Kexing’s tall and lean frame clad only in white sleeping robes, standing at the foot of his bed in preparation for bed. His hair was loose around his shoulders, the upper half no longer held up by his jade hair stick. At the sound of the doors sliding open, Wen Kexing startled, looking up in surprise.
“A-Xu, are you alright?” Wen Kexing asked, immediately coming forward in his worry at the surprise visit.
Still leaning languidly against the doorframe, Zhou Zishu held up the jug of rice wine he had retrieved, saying, “Share a drink with me, Lao Wen?”
He had purposefully lowered his voice when he spoke, and it seemed to have worked wonders based on Wen Kexing’s slightly dazed expression. Dark eyes were tracing over Zhou Zishu’s face before sliding down almost helplessly to soft, sleeping robes where they dipped low at the chest.
If Wen Kexing had any doubts or hesitation over Zhou Zishu’s sudden presence, he didn’t manage to voice any of it. He visibly swallowed, the notch on his throat working as he stepped backwards, silently allowing Zhou Zishu to step into the room. With a lazy smile, Zhou Zishu took the wordless invitation, turning sideways to slide the doors shut behind him. With just the two of them in a closed room, both without the many layers of clothing usually worn through the day, it felt rather intimate. Wen Kexing seemed to feel the tension that sprung up between them once the doors slid closed, his eyes growing heavy-lidded as he watched Zhou Zishu with curiosity and a hunger he tried to mask.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be as difficult as Zhou Zishu imagined it would be.
Holding Wen Kexing’s watchful gaze, he brought the jar to his lips and took a deep drink, head tilting back and throat working as he swallowed. Once he brought the jar back down, he used a thumb to wipe away the stray drop of wine at the corner of his lips.
Wen Kexing’s eyes were dark with want, his lips slightly parted as if he could taste the wine on skin through the air.
That was a wish Zhou Zishu could easily fulfil. He stalked forward, holding the wine jar loosely in his hand, watching as Wen Kexing only stood there, enraptured. Zhou Zishu walked right up to him, stopping far closer than necessary and placed an open palm on Wen Kexing’s chest. As Wen Kexing blinked slowly, lashes creating a fan of dark shadows on his pale cheeks, Zhou Zishu gave him a hard push. Taken off guard, Wen Kexing stumbled back and Zhou Zishu followed after him, pushing again until the back of Wen Kexing’s legs hit his bed. With another nudge, Wen Kexing sat down heavily on the bed and looked up in surprise.
Zhou Zishu pushed in so that he was standing between parted legs, close enough that he could count Wen Kexing’s lashes even under the low candlelight.
“Have a drink, Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu said, his voice a soft and slow invite. He followed his words with action, lifting the jar to press it directly to Wen Kexing’s lips.
As if already drunk, Wen Kexing stared up at him with dazed eyes and opened his mouth against the touch of cold porcelain. Carefully, Zhou Zishu tipped the wine past his parted lips, feeding it straight into his mouth. It felt unbearably intimate, to have Wen Kexing entirely dependent on him, mouth parting trustingly to Zhou Zishu’s hands and wine…
It was almost too much.
And not enough.
When Zhou Zishu lifted the wine jar away, a little bit of wine had already escaped the corner of Wen Kexing’s lips, a clear trickle gliding down to his chin. Looking down at that upturned face, beautiful and trusting, Zhou Zishu felt abruptly that he could not hold back any longer, overflowing with heat and want.
All those plans and missions, they were all a parchment thin disguise for his desire for Wen Kexing, an ill-fitting mask to try to transform his desperate want to be with this gorgeous, wonderful, absurd human being into something less raw, more acceptable for human eyes.
Zhou Zishu gave in to what he had wanted to do all this time.
He dragged his thumb over the spilled wine on Wen Kexing’s chin, up to his lips, pressing momentarily against that enticing divot at the corner of his mouth. Then he lifted his wet thumb and licked it, a slow long glide of flesh against skin, where he imagined he could taste Wen Kexing in the sharpness of the wine even if in truth he could no longer taste anything at all.
“A-Xu…” Wen Kexing gasped, his voice rough and so very desperate with the want that was mirrored in Zhou Zishu’s chest.
Surely that was answer enough?
Zhou Zishu bent down and finally, finally, kissed Wen Kexing.
The lips under his were soft, so unbearably soft, and they parted with such trust and eagerness that Zhou Zishu very nearly collapsed onto Wen Kexing with boiling desire. Instead, he placed a knee on the bed and dropped the jar of wine, uncaring where it went as it clattered to the floor. He cupped Wen Kexing’s face and tipped his head back, thrilling at his throaty groan when their mouths slotted so perfectly together. Zhou Zishu pressed his advantage, slipped his tongue into Wen Kexing’s mouth and shivered at the feel of that soft, wet heat, knowing it was Wen Kexing he was feeling and kissing, his zhiji …
Then their lips were cruelly parted, much too soon when Zhou Zishu had barely gotten to learn the feel of their flesh tangling.
Wen Kexing had turned his head away, a hand pressed to his chest, breathing heavily as if he had been sprinting. “I… I think I heard Chengling calling us…”
Zhou Zishu stared at him in disbelief. His hearing had not deteriorated so much that he would have missed Chengling calling for them. The pale face still caught between Zhou Zishu’s hands was slightly flushed and those dark eyes that were still heavy with want could not meet Zhou Zishu’s own gaze.
Running a thumb over the sweet curve of Wen Kexing’s right cheekbone, Zhou Zishu sighed, “Zhou furen, please have some pity on this unworthy one.11”
The flirtatious words that hearkened back to the novel The Plum in the Golden Vase were a mirror of Wen Kexing’s own from not so long ago, once spoken with such a teasing flair to Zhou Zishu. It was a reminder that whatever was going on between them had been something Wen Kexing himself had started.
Wen Kexing’s eyes lowered, dark lashes shadowing his gaze, but Zhou Zishu thought he read guilt on that face. His blood chilled at the sight. He didn’t want to believe it, but he had no idea what to believe anymore after this night.
Slowly, he pulled his hands away from Wen Kexing, his fingers trembling as he parted from that beloved face. Had this all been a game? Some kind of deception? No, he knew Wen Kexing down to his bones, he knew his zhiji, and he knew that Wen Kexing would have never done that, not to him. So worse than all that, did Wen Kexing feel he had to play a role to gain Zhou Zishu’s affections?
Perhaps Wen Kexing felt the slight shaking of Zhou Zishu’s hands, or perhaps he saw it from the corner of his eyes. His gaze snapped up and he grabbed onto Zhou Zishu’s hands with his own, holding them tight.
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true,” Wen Kexing said, staring up at Zhou Zishu with wide-eyed desperation.
“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” Zhou Zishu admitted, but the churning sick feeling in his stomach at least settled down a little at the frankness in Wen Kexing’s eyes. “Lao Wen, I’m at a loss. You flirt with me like the most presumptuous, persistent libertine, yet when I return the same attention to you, you shy away like a flustered virgin with the thinnest sk—”
Zhou Zishu cut himself off, because Wen Kexing had been looking directly at him, and he hadn’t been able to hide the way his eyes slid away at those words, the way his lips pressed together and how the faint flush on his cheeks darkened.
In shock, Zhou Zishu blurted out, “You are a virgin?”
Wen Kexing let go of Zhou Zishu’s hands and lifted his chin, looking challengingly up at Zhou Zishu. “What is wrong with that?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Zhou Zishu said quickly, but he was still too flabbergasted to hide his shock. “But...you? From all your comments and the things you said to me, I thought—”
“I didn’t trust anyone in Ghost Valley who I also wanted to bed.”
That stark, simple sentence was enough to sober Zhou Zishu, wake him up from his astonishment. Of course it hadn’t been that simple for Wen Kexing. Sex meant intimacy and vulnerability, a situation which was fraught with danger in a place like Ghost Valley. Even after he had become the Ghost Valley Master, any of the people below him would have been waiting for an opportunity to slit his throat just to take over the throne.
“You did leave the Ghost Valley from time to time,” Zhou Zishu pointed out gently, a statement that was also an unvoiced question. It seemed best to clear everything up right now, considering the alarming incorrect assumptions Zhou Zishu had managed to make.
Wen Kexing sighed, his stiff shoulders relaxing a little. “And there was no guarantee that my enemies in the Ghost Valley had not sent people out or paid someone to betray me in a moment of...weakness. It became difficult to trust anyone with that much of myself after a point.”
Those words concerned Zhou Zishu. Perhaps he really had assumed too much with Wen Kexing. He asked quietly, “Is that why you aren’t interested in—”
“I would have to be dead to be uninterested in you, A-Xu,” Wen Kexing said with a wry note to his voice, none of his usual flirtation in his words, just a pure statement of fact.
That left Zhou Zishu feeling a stark relief that he hadn’t so misunderstood what they had between them. Then the issue was simply that Wen Kexing needed time, something that was easy to grant. No matter how Zhou Zishu feared that he was running out of time itself, of course he would wait for Wen Kexing now he knew what the issue was. He could wait until the end if he had to.
“I’m sorry I pushed you when you weren’t ready,” Zhou Zishu said, regret coiling in his heart. He had never wanted to make Wen Kexing uncomfortable, had always assumed that this ridiculous flirt of a human peacock was well-versed in the ways of bodily intimacies and pleasure.
Wen Kexing shook his head sharply, getting up from the bed so that now, it was Zhou Zishu looking up into Wen Kexing’s frank gaze. “No, A-Xu. Don’t be absurd. You didn’t push me. Did you think you could push me?”
“Even with my reduced martial arts, I could still take you, brat,” Zhou Zishu said in a challenge, before holding up a hand to forestall any further digression of the topic. “But regardless, I’m sure you well know that there are ways to push and pressure someone without using physical moves.”
“I’m well aware, but you did none of that. Who said I’m not ready for more?” Wen Kexing insisted, a mullish set to his lips.
“You were literally fleeing from me. Multiple times in fact! I thought you had some bizarre reason for running the moment I flirted back, but I—”
“I did not flee! And that wasn’t the reason why I...left in a timely manner.”
Zhou Zishu raised his eyebrows. “When we spoke about wifely duties, you ran out to prepare dinner. You surely knew I was not speaking about food.”
Lower lip protruding slightly, Wen Kexing said, “Oh, so you don’t appreciate my food preparation then? How little my hard work is—”
“Alright, don’t try to distract me, Lao Wen. What was your real reason then for leaving in a timely manner, if you’re indeed interested?”
“Because I want you to enjoy yourself as well,” Wen Kexing blurted out all of a sudden, as if he had been keeping this in for quite a long while. He gave Zhou Zishu a look that seemed almost accusatory, as if this reason should have been obvious from the start.
Zhou Zishu stared at him in utter bafflement. “Why do you think I wouldn’t enjoy myself?” Then an unexpected, unlikely thought occurred to him. “Even though you’re new to this, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy myself. Practice will—”
“I’m sure I’ll be a natural talent in matters involving bedplay, thank you very much,” Wen Kexing cut in, looking affronted.
“Then why on earth do you think I wouldn’t enjoy myself?” Zhou Zishu demanded.
“Because of the Nails!” Wen Kexing pointed out, throwing up his hands in exasperation, as if that obvious answer should clear up all confusion.
Except it did not actually clear up anything at all. “Do you think I’m in too much pain to enjoy myself in bed? The pain is not constant,” Zhou Zishu explained, feeling at a loss as to where Wen Kexing was getting his ideas from.
“How can you enjoy yourself when you cannot actively participate in the coupling?” Wen Kexing asked, an almost plaintive frown on his face.
Zhou Zishu shook his head slowly. “Lao Wen, I think you best explain yourself in detail, because I have no idea why you think I would not be able to actively participate in a coupling with you.”
If it wasn’t for his flushed ears, Wen Kexing would look utterly composed as he said, “The Nails of Seven Apertures for Three Autumns have damaged your meridians, including your kidney meridians, which affects your...sexual energy.12”
Reeling, Zhou Zishu said, “My kidney— My sexual— Who told you this?”
“When I went back to Ghost Valley, I asked Corpse Eating Ghost about a situation where the seven key meridians are damaged with metal and he gave me a list of potential side effects, one of which includes sexual capabilities being affected,” Wen Kexing explained, looking very serious and worried. “But don’t worry, once the nails are removed and you’re cured, your bodily functions should return to normal.”
“You asked someone called Corpse Eating Ghost about my health and you believed what he said?” Zhou Zishu asked incredulously.
“Corpse Eating Ghost might have questionable eating habits, but he is one of our better skilled healers, when he’s able to suppress his...appetite,” Wen Kexing said, sounding a little defensive.
In a place like Ghost Valley, where strength was prioritised over everything else, ‘better skilled healer’ did not seem particularly meaningful. Any healer in Ghost Valley likely did not have to use their skills very often as those who had to rely heavily on healers to recover from their own injuries or illness would not be seen as strong enough to survive. Anyway, the man was called Corpse Eating Ghost. If ever there was a sign not to trust a healer with human flesh, this was it.
Zhou Zishu pointed out, “How would this Corpse Eating Ghost know the symptoms I’m experiencing when he hasn’t examined me in person? Why would you believe that I couldn’t...perform in bed based on no evidence?”
“He did say that he needed to see you in person to be sure, but I was not about to let him examine you. That would be revealing too much to him, and I did not want his dirty hands on you in any case,” Wen Kexing said with a frown. Then he gestured placatingly and added, “And it’s not about performing. I’m sure you can perform very well, even if your body cannot, uh, rise to the occasion.”
Exasperated, Zhou Zishu abandoned tact and said, “So he wasn’t even sure of his diagnosis but you forced him to make one, and then you whole-heartedly believed that my cock isn’t working.”
“A-Xu, I didn’t, that wasn’t—” Wen Kexing tried to deny it even as his cheeks unexpectedly flushed a dusky pink at Zhou Zishu’s coarse words.
“Wasn’t it? You thought my kidneys weren’t working properly which meant you thought I couldn’t get hard, so every time I tried to initiate something, you ran away like an idiot.”
Wen Kexing protested, “I didn’t run away!”
Reaching the end of his patience, Zhou Zishu asked bluntly, “Lao Wen, do you want to find out for yourself if I have a working cock?”
That stopped Wen Kexing’s distracted arguments, and he stared at Zhou Zishu with parted lips, as if the entirety of the conversation along with its implications were finally dawning upon that pretty, silly head of his.
“Yes or no, that is all I need to hear,” Zhou Zishu said, prompting him when he seemed to have been stunned into silence.
Wen Kexing stepped closer, stepped in until there was barely a breath of space between them and whispered, “Yes, A-Xu, I very, very much want to find out everything about your cock.”
Wen Kexing kissed like he was the one who was dying, like he was desperately trying to taste Zhou Zishu through fading senses. It was too wet, too much tongue and teeth, too much like being mauled rather than being kissed.
But it was perfect, because it was Wen Kexing, his mouth against Zhou Zishu’s, large hands tangled in hair like he was afraid Zhou Zishu would escape when all this time, Wen Kexing was the one who had been running away. Wen Kexing’s absurdity, his desperate intensity, it was all welcome because it was coming from his Lao Wen.
Zhou Zishu curved his hands around Wen Kexing’s cheeks, tilting his head to the side for a better angle. He kissed Wen Kexing back, but slowly, calming down the frantic entanglement until they were gliding together decadently instead, until pleasure sizzled with every pass of their lips. They parted for the briefest moments, just enough to gasp for air before coming together again, kissing with fervent want if not grace. What need did they have for grace, when they had each other?
When their lips were swollen from ardent kisses, when they had to part for longer to catch their breath, they pressed their foreheads together instead, as if loathe to separate for too long, be too far apart. Zhou Zishu looked up from beneath his lashes, gaze snagging on Wen Kexing’s parted, flushed lips, at how slick his mouth looked. Feeling reckless and wild, Zhou Zishu untangled Wen Kexing’s hand from his own hair.
He waited until Wen Kexing blinked, eyes drifting to where Zhou Zishu had wound their fingers together. Then Zhou Zishu brought Wen Kexing’s hand down, down, down...down until he pressed Wen Kexing’s wide palm against his own arousal between his legs. It was an utterly shameless move, but perhaps Zhou Zishu was still feeling a little petty about Wen Kexing’s words earlier, where he questioned Zhou Zishu’s ability to deliver in bed.
“What do you think?” Zhou Zishu asked, voice a little hoarse. “Do you still think I can’t find pleasure in bed with you?”
He pushed Wen Kexing’s hand tighter between his legs, curling those long fingers as best he could around his own erection through the thin layer of clothing. Wen Kexing was gasping, breathless like it was his own cock they were touching. His long lashes fluttered with his eyes remaining fixed on where their hands were pressed against the front of Zhou Zishu’s robes.
“A-Xu…” Wen Kexing whispered, seemingly unable to continue any further from there.
Zhou Zishu leaned forward and said into Wen Kexing’s ear, hot breath lingering against pinkening skin, “Let me show you how much pleasure we can both experience in bed.”
He watched that excited bobbing of that long, elegant throat as Wen Kexing swallowed instinctively with want, and took that as a ‘yes’.
The soft, sleeping robes they wore did not hide much, body tantalizingly visible beneath the thin cloth, and the worn fabric slid easily off smooth skin under hungry, curious touches. Despite Wen Kexing’s inexperience in bedroom matters, he did not shy away under Zhou Zishu’s wandering hands or admiring looks. Instead, he was too busy drinking in Zhou Zishu’s bare body with his own dark gaze, molten with desire. His hands trembled as he skimmed the sharp lines of Zhou Zishu’s collarbones, as they traced ugly scars left by enemies and Zhou Zishu’s own actions.
After Wen Kexing had looked his fill, Zhou Zishu pressed kisses down his beautiful, long neck, thumbed at pebbled nipples until he squirmed with want. He brought Wen Kexing’s hands to his own body and showed him where to touch, what felt so very good.
“Tighter, hold me tighter,” Zhou Zishu instructed, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as Wen Kexing tightened his grip on Zhou Zishu’s hard cock.
They were on the bed now, kneeling and pressed close together, Zhou Zishu had one arm curled around the back of Wen Kexing’s neck, holding his head close as Wen Kexing stared down at where he was pumping Zhou Zishu’s cock according to the instructions he was given.
Zhou Zishu whispered into Wen Kexing’s hair, “Your hands are a work of art, Lao Wen. Look how beautiful they are around my cock.”
He watched the way Wen Kexing’s neck flushed with infinite fondness, wondering at how a few lewd words of praise could bring a blush to his usually shameless Lao Wen’s fair skin. Unable to resist, he turned his head and gently bit that delicate shell of Wen Kexing’s ear, sucking briefly on that wondrously soft earlobe. Wen Kexing’s rhythm faltered with a surprised gasp as he was introduced to yet another new bodily pleasure.
Regretfully parting from bullying that lovely ear, Zhou Zishu said, “Do you feel how wet the head of my cock is?” He tangled his hand with Wen Kexing’s, showing him how to rub gently at the tip of his arousal, letting out a breathless moan as Wen Kexing imitated him eagerly.
Wen Kexing shuddered and he looked up with wide, desperate eyes. “A-Xu, your mouth is dangerous.”
“Oh, but I haven’t yet shown you what I can really do with my mouth,” Zhou Zishu said, regretfully pulling Wen Kexing’s hand away from his leaking cock.
Wen Kexing let out a tiny sound of protest, which was just too delicious, but Zhou Zishu persevered and nudged him until he leaned back on the bed. Bare skin stretched over taut, lean muscles and long limbs spread out on the wooden bed… It was truly a sight to behold. Under the flickering candlelight, Wen Kexing’s long black hair trailed over the curve of a shoulder, a stark contrast against his enticing nakedness.
Where he had been too distracted and eager earlier to feel any shyness, Wen Kexing seemed like he didn’t know where to put his long limbs now, shifting restlessly against the wooden bed as Zhou Zishu prowled up between his spread thighs. Wide dark eyes watched Zhou Zishu, soft pink lips parted in faint uncertainty. Yet when Zhou Zishu paused, wanting to check if everything was alright, Wen Kexing leaned back with a convincingly languid air of confidence, pulling on a cloak of false bravado.
Drawing his hand slowly down his hard stomach muscles, to the enticing lines that sloped down to a beautifully arched cock, Wen Kexing said with as much seduction as he could muster, “Do you like what you see?”
Zhou Zishu wanted to tell him that such feigned seduction to hide his nervousness was unnecessary, not with him, never with him, but he knew that would only make Wen Kexing more uncomfortable, might even spur him to further heights of bravado.
So instead of voicing such thoughts, Zhou Zishu settled in between Wen Kexing’s legs and then leaned up and up, bypassing that sweetly leaking cock and instead pressed a soft kiss to the back of Wen Kexing’s hand where it was laid on his stomach.
Wen Kexing had managed to keep up his front of confident seduction right until the moment Zhou Zishu pressed that soft lingering kiss to the back of his hand. When Zhou Zishu looked up, he could see Wen Kexing’s soft mouth falling open in surprise, his brave face slipping away to reveal wide-eyed wonder instead.
Then Zhou Zishu shifted to the left and planted a kiss on the tip of Wen Kexing’s cock. Strong thighs tensed beneath his hands and he watched as milky pre-come leaked from the vulnerable, pink head that peeked out from his foreskin. Smiling, Zhou Zishu lapped at the pearly liquid, delighting in the startled groan from above him even as he regretted that he could no longer taste anything, could no longer savor the bitterness and musky flavor at the core of his Lao Wen.
To make up for the loss of taste, Zhou Zishu slipped the head of Wen Kexing’s shaft into his mouth, sucking on it lightly to coax out more of the thick liquid. Wen Kexing’s cock was delightfully hard in his mouth as he pushed down, relaxing his throat so he could swallow as much of that long, stiff cock as possible. From above him, Wen Kexing groaned, deep and heartfelt as hips stuttered up in desperation, before long fingers were tangling in Zhou Zishu’s hair and tugging him up and away.
Zhou Zishu released his grip on Wen Kexing’s arousal with reluctance, looking up as he licked his lips and earned himself another groan from Wen Kexing.
“A-Xu, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” Wen Kexing said, a touch plaintive and hoarse.
Raising his eyebrows, Zhou Zishu said, “That would be the point.”
Shifting his hips, Wen Kexing parted his thighs even more, a terribly provocative move with Zhou Zishu right there between his legs. “But don’t you want to pluck this lotus…13
Zhou Zishu drew in a sharp breath. He should have known that Wen Kexing’s inexperience would not impede his shamelessness. When Wen Kexing wanted something, he did not hold back, spared no time on hesitation. The only time he had ever denied himself was when he thought Zhou Zishu could not enjoy himself as well. But now that that worry had proven to be irrelevant, of course Wen Kexing would fling himself head first into this, even as his cheeks flushed, even in all his awkward graceless enthusiasm.
Pulling back a little, Zhou Zishu trailed his hands up the tender insides of Wen Kexing’s thighs, observing the responding shiver avidly. “Do you know what you’re asking for, Lao Wen?”
“I’m asking for you to put your cock in me,” Wen Kexing said, eyebrows raised coolly, his facade given away by his pink cheeks.
“I would have thought you would have wanted it the other way round.” Zhou Zishu’s words weren’t without logic. After all, he had caught Wen Kexing staring at his behind often enough to form a view of what Wen Kexing was after.
“Ah, A-Xu, you’re not wrong. The only time I would not want to feel you tight around me would be if I were already dead,” Wen Kexing admitted with a wistful sigh, as if stirred by some memory he was picturing in his mind.
“Then why…”
Wen Kexing’s bare shoulders rose and fell as he shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m doing yet,” he admitted without a trace of embarrassment. Then he lowered his lashes, a mischievous smile curving up his lips. “Shixiong can teach shidi, then shidi will do his best to master this new skill later with shixiong.”
In all his years, Zhou Zishu’s sexual experiences were mainly hard, fast partaking of pleasure before parting ways to never speak of it again. While the numerous times he had indulged himself were enjoyable, he had not participated in anything particularly...unusual. As the leader of Tian Chuang, he might know of all the strange and perverse ways people could derive pleasure from each other, but he did not experience most of it himself.
Surprisingly, something as simple as the word ‘shixiong’ falling from Wen Kexing’s lips, the implication that Zhou Zishu could teach Wen Kexing and show him the pleasures of the body…the thought was unexpectedly intoxicating.
Zhou Zishu put aside any further reservations. He shifted to the side until he could reach his robes on the floor beside the bed, pulling it up and digging in the sleeves until he extracted a small jar.
“You came prepared,” Wen Kexing said, looking rather amused.
“I was hopeful,” Zhou Zishu admitted without embarrassment or shame.
Then he pushed back between Wen Kexing’s legs, pushing them further apart so he could settle between those beautiful, pale thighs even as he opened the little jar of oil. Digging into the jar, he got his fingers and hands slick, instructing, “Be sure to use a generous amount of oil when you first start out.”
He took Wen Kexing’s cock in his slippery hand, smiling as Wen Kexing startled, leg muscles tensing again. Pink lips parted as Wen Kexing stared at him.
“Shidi, pay close attention,” Zhou Zishu said, breathing against the hard shaft in his hand, feeling it twitch in his grasp. “Be mindful of your teeth and don’t be afraid to get everything very wet.”
He punctuated that last emphasis by sucking Wen Kexing’s splendid cock into his mouth again, bobbing his head up and down as he worked himself down that magnificent erection. As Wen Kexing moaned threadily, Zhou Zishu circled his entrance with two slick fingers, massaging gently until he felt Wen Kexing relax under the dual sensations of a wet mouth around his cock and probing fingers.
Zhou Zishu swallowed around the hard shaft in his throat just as he pressed a finger into Wen Kexing’s hole. Wen Kexing’s hips jerked, thrusting up a little before pressing back, as if unsure which way to go, and Zhou Zishu responded by speeding up the bobbing of his head, by swallowing tight around Wen Kexing’s erection. When Wen Kexing thrust up, losing his control, Zhou Zishu pressed another finger into him, receiving a whining moan as a result.
Pulling off that long cock with a slow, lingering suck, Zhou Zishu asked, “Shidi, are you paying attention?”
He twisted his fingers in the tight clutch of Wen Kexing’s body, watched as Wen Kexing shuddered when he curled his fingers and pressed mercilessly at the place where pleasure seemed to peak. Wen Kexing arched with a harsh gasp, his cock dripping onto his stomach, and Zhou Zishu thought that was a waste, so he licked up the small mess on Wen Kexing’s stomach with slow, savoring laps. Then, almost idly, he mouthed his way up Wen Kexing’s hard cock, tonguing and sucking in turns at the wet tip, all the while curling and rubbing his fingers inside of that wondrous heat.
“A-Xu, A-Xu…” Wen Kexing gasped, head tossing against the bed, long hair caught in his mouth and draping over half his face. “A-Xu, I need you…”
Those long, usually graceful limbs were trembling, his body shaking under Zhou Zishu’s touch. Immediately, Zhou Zishu pulled his fingers free and pushed himself up, enfolding Wen Kexing into his embrace.
With his relatively cleaner hand, he brushed that silky black hair back from Wen Kexing’s flushed face, murmuring, “Lao Wen, I’m here. I’m right here. Are you alright?”
“A-Xu...why did you stop?” Wen Kexing asked, his eyes a little glazed as he finally focused on Zhou Zishu.
Relief flooded his tense frame and Zhou Zishu said with mild helplessness, “Because you were calling my name like that. It seemed like you needed a moment.”
With wide, dark eyes fringed by lovely long lashes staring up at him, Wen Kexing admitted, “It felt so good…”
Zhou Zishu had to use all of his vaunted control not to shiver at that. He asked, “Do you want to continue, shidi?”
They didn’t need to explicitly say the words to know where this was heading, with the teasing use of ‘shidi’ once more.
Holding Zhou Zishu’s heated gaze, Wen Kexing asked softly, “Can we do it like this, shixiong? You were too far away earlier…”
The position would be awkward, but Zhou Zishu could not find it in his heart to say no to Wen Kexing. It seemed to have become a trend of sorts. He adjusted their bodies, keeping them pressed close as they lay on their sides facing one another. He pulled Wen Kexing’s leg up high and placed it on his own hip. Then he reached around Wen Kexing, his hand trailing down his curved spine to where his spread legs exposed his already slick hole to the cool night air. With little effort, Zhou Zishu slipped two fingers back into Wen Kexing, relishing in the way Wen Kexing had buried his face into Zhou Zishu’s bare chest.
Even though this position was much more awkward and Zhou Zishu unfortunately couldn’t suck Wen Kexing’s lovely cock at the same time, there were still many things about the position that Zhou Zishu really liked. With Wen Kexing curled like this into him, with Zhou Zishu coiled over him so that he could work his fingers in and out of Wen Kexing, it felt somehow even more intimate than Zhou Zishu sucking Wen Kexing’s cock while loosening him up.
Then Wen Kexing shifted and hesitantly lapped at Zhou Zishu’s left nipple, sucking on it experimentally. Zhou Zishu gasped at the spike of pleasure and hissed out, “That’s...that’s very good, shidi.” After all, initiative should be praised and rewarded.
So now he had Wen Kexing’s face buried in his chest, hot damp breaths panting out against sensitive skin as he suckled on Zhou Zishu’s nipple, only lifting off occasionally to moan when Zhou Zishu did something interesting with his fingers. Zhou Zishu’s arm was around him like he was embracing him, but his hand was pressed down low, fingers twisting and moving as Wen Kexing shifted restlessly, alternating between rolling his damp cock against Zhou Zishu’s thigh and riding Zhou Zishu’s fingers. They were pressed so tightly together like this, like how they should always be.
By the time Zhou Zishu worked three fingers into Wen Kexing, his left hand felt like it might be cramping from the awkward position, his back aching from how he was twisted over Wen Kexing’s writhing body.
And he was wondrously, painfully hard. There was no other state he could possibly be in, not with his fingers buried in Wen Kexing’s heat, not with that naturally talented mouth working his nipples, not with that smooth thigh wrapped around his hip, legs opened wide for Zhou Zishu’s questing hands. He was constantly breathing in Wen Kexing’s abundant, now-dishevelled hair, but he was also surrounded by Wen Kexing’s symphony of moans and gasps, muffled into Zhou Zishu’s chest, shoulder or neck. It was almost impossible to imagine how much more overwhelming this would have been had he still been in full possession of all his senses. By the time he felt Wen Kexing relax under his touch, he was ready to rut his way to completion against Wen Kexing’s own thigh too, if they didn’t move soon.
“Are you ready, Lao Wen?” Zhou Zishu asked before pressing a kiss to sweat-damp hair.
“Yes, yes, please, A-Xu…”
Thank the heavens…
It would be easier if Wen Kexing was on his back or on all fours, rather than on his side with one leg draped over Zhou Zishu. But Wen Kexing’s arm was wound tight around Zhou Zishu’s back, seemingly unwilling to let go, and to be honest, Zhou Zishu too was loathe to part from this embrace. So instead, he pulled the leg wrapped around his hip even higher, tugging Wen Kexing so that his lower half was curved upward just enough for Zhou Zishu to brush the wet head of his cock against Wen Kexing’s entrance. Wen Kexing shivered and Zhou Zishu ran a hand down his back, murmuring comforting nothings.
Holding Wen Kexing’s hips in place, Zhou Zishu shifted upward with a grip on his own cock, pressing forward slowly but surely into that slick, wet heat.
“Shidi, bear down on me,” Zhou Zishu instructed.
Wen Kexing squirmed in Zhou Zishu’s arms, but he bore down as instructed, letting out a breathless groan as Zhou Zishu breached him and kept sliding in until they were pressed close together. Hard length buried deep in tantalizing heat, Wen Kexing’s own hard cock leaking against his stomach, it was all almost too much and not enough, all at the same time.
Unable to resist the tightness squeezing down on his aching cock, Zhou Zishu drew back slowly and thrust in again, wanting to work up to a quicker rhythm.
Except Wen Kexing arched, shook, and tightened, tightened his arms around Zhou Zishu’s back but also tightened around Zhou Zishu’s cock as he cried out and spilled with jerking pulses, creamy white staining their skin. Zhou Zishu gasped, his blood heating at the sight and feel of Wen Kexing reaching his climax just from Zhou Zishu putting his cock into him. He hadn’t even moved yet, hadn’t even put his hand on Wen Kexing’s arousal.
“Lao Wen, fuck…” Zhou Zishu gasped, shifting his hand to rub the evidence of his climax into Wen Kexing’s skin, feeling the way his abdominal muscles trembled under his touch.
Wen Kexing was still shifting, his arms still wound tight around Zhou Zishu as his hips moved like he didn’t know what to do next, to pull off Zhou Zishu or to push back against him. The rhythmless clenching around Zhou Zishu, the way Wen Kexing’s shivering limbs and sweat-slick skin felt, the breathless panting from parted lips...it was all enough to drive Zhou Zishu to madness. He tightened his grip around Wen Kexing and then rolled them, finally unable to stand staying in their awkward tangle where he didn’t have enough leverage to really move.
Now, he had Wen Kexing on his back while Zhou Zishu was between his spread legs. His movement had caused him to slip out of Wen Kexing’s tight clutch of his body, and it felt unbearable to be parted like this, his cock throbbing and desperate to be inside that addictive heat, his entire being longing to be joined with Wen Kexing once more.
“Can I?” he asked, desperate but trying not to show it, not wanting Wen Kexing to agree just because Zhou Zishu wanted this. After all, Wen Kexing had to be sensitive so soon after reaching the peak like this. He might not want to continue, rightfully so.
Wen Kexing still had his arms wound around Zhou Zishu’s neck, and at that question, he tightened his hold, as if afraid Zhou Zishu would move away. “Have you even taught me anything, shixiong?” Wen Kexing asked, mischief dancing in his eyes even as he gasped for breath.
“You brat,” Zhou Zishu laughed, before hitching Wen Kexing’s legs higher and angling his hips up.
He was being held too close to see himself breaching Wen Kexing again, and much as he would love to watch as that oiled hole opened up to let him in, he preferred holding his Lao Wen in return, staying in that desperate, mutual embrace. Breathing sharply as he fumbled a hand down to guide himself in once more, his stomach clenched with sharp pleasure as the head of his cock pushed into that inviting heat. Wen Kexing moaned as he pushed in all the way, large hands clawing into Zhou Zishu’s back.
Zhou Zishu bent close and whispered into Wen Kexing’s flushed ear, “Lao Wen, you’re so tight. You really are untouched.”
That seemed to be the exact right words to provoke Wen Kexing who responded immediately by clamping his thighs and arms tighter around Zhou Zishu, tightening down as if to prove those words right. Zhou Zishu groaned with heartfelt pleasure, unable to stop himself from pulling back and thrusting in, the delightful friction sending skittering pleasure up his spine. In response, Wen Kexing cried out and pushed his hips back against Zhou Zishu, shivering the whole time.
“Does it feel good there? Do you feel full and tight?” Zhou Zishu asked through gritted teeth as he began to roll his hips, a steady rhythm that drove their mutual pleasure higher every time they clashed together.
Wen Kexing gasped, “Yes, yes, shixiong.”
Groaning, Zhou Zishu said soothingly, taking note of how Wen Kexing twisted and moaned in his arms, “You’re doing so well, shidi. You’ll feel...you’ll feel sensitive, because you already came once, just from feeling my cock in you.”
The words seemed to drive Wen Kexing to a new frenzy as he dug his nails into Zhou Zishu’s back, the sharp sting only making Zhou Zishu gasp and thrust in harder. Until this moment, Zhou Zishu hadn’t known he could have such a way with words in bed, had never been interested in this kind of inciting, lewd talk. But just saying the words and seeing Wen Kexing respond to them was even more arousing than some of his past couplings. It seemed like when Wen Kexing was involved, Zhou Zishu was finding new depths of depravity, new and exciting potential to his own life and preferences.
Sweat dripped from Zhou Zishu’s forehead onto Wen Kexing’s cheek, causing Wen Kexing to twitch in shock at the sudden splash of heat. Not letting his breathlessness or his moving hips stop him, Zhou Zishu leaned down and licked a broad stripe up Wen Kexing’s cheek. Wen Kexing let out a harsh gasp in response, as if he had been punched in the chest. It was a shame that Zhou Zishu could not tell what the sweat on Wen Kexing’s skin tasted like, otherwise he would have loved to find out if he tasted differently in the crook of his neck, in the crease of his thighs.
He pulled back to see Wen Kexing staring up at him with wide, dark eyes, his eyes red-rimmed and soft lips parted in gasping pleasure. Zhou Zishu couldn’t resist this sight of his beautiful Lao Wen, trusting and pliant in his arms, so he leaned down and kissed him hard, his tongue pushing into Wen Kexing’s mouth to the same rhythm that his hips were moving. He couldn’t taste anything, but the lack of taste and smell perhaps heightened all the other senses he had remaining. His tongue felt unbearably sensitive, as if he had a heightened awareness of every wet ridge and vulnerable inch of flesh inside of Wen Kexing’s soft, welcoming mouth.
Zhou Zishu could feel every strand of Wen Kexing’s long hair sticking to the side of his own face, was starkly aware of the great expanse of smooth skin rubbing against his own, of muscled flesh tensing and loosening under his hands with every rock of his hips. He was overwhelmed by the slick heat and tightness inside Wen Kexing’s body, of how good his cock felt to be worked over and squeezed by Wen Kexing.
Abruptly, Zhou Zishu could hold it in no longer, could not drag this out anymore. He pulled back from the kiss to take in Wen Kexing’s flushed cheeks and wet eyes, just as he started thrusting with an even more desperate fervor. Then he wrapped his hand around Wen Kexing’s dripping cock.
Desperately rising cries going, ‘ah, ah’ spilled from Wen Kexing’s mouth as he tightened hard around Zhou Zishu and started pushing back with an erratic surge of pleasure. There were no more games now, no more provocative words to drive each other over the edge.
“A-Xu, A-Xu,” Wen Kexing cried out, tossing his head like the pleasure surging through him was unbearable.
Zhou Zishu knew just how he felt. His feet were pushing into the hard board of the bed as he shoved himself forward, hips rolling against Wen Kexing as pleasure flooded his remaining senses and all he could think about was spilling into the sweet tightness of Wen Kexing’s body.
“Let go, Lao Wen, let me see it again, let me feel you around me,” Zhou Zishu panted out, his hand moving with almost aggressive speed on Wen Kexing’s hard, slick cock.
With wetness on his lashes, Wen Kexing arched his back to a cacophony of groans and gasps, tightening hard around Zhou Zishu as his pleasure suddenly reached a peak once more. Zhou Zishu’s hips stuttered even as he continued pulling at Wen Kexing’s cock. It felt like Wen Kexing’s shuddering, gasping climax was hooked directly into his own arousal, and he could feel Wen Kexing jerking and tightening around him in extended ecstasy. A hot wetness spilled between them, all over his still moving hand, and knowing that was Wen Kexing’s spend, knowing he had brought his Lao Wen to this peak...
He had no more thoughts to spare as he jerked and spilled within the tight confines of Wen Kexing’s body, careening over the edge in shocking, heart-pounding pleasure. His hips continued to roll, chasing the last of this unbearable enjoyment in the tight, squeezing clutch of Wen Kexing’s body. When he shifted his grip, hand lightly pulling Wen Kexing’s spent, semi-hard cock, that earned him a sharp cry.
“Too much,” Wen Kexing protested, and Zhou Zishu released his hold and ran his hand soothingly over his hip instead. Zhou Zishu kissed him on the forehead, on the cheek, on the nose…
“Did it feel good, Lao Wen?”
Wen Kexing wrapped his arms even more tightly around Zhou Zishu. “Very good…” he said, unusually short on words.
Then Wen Kexing murmured, pulling Zhou Zishu down so that they could press their foreheads together, “What about you? Did you enjoy it?”
“It was perfect,” Zhou Zishu could only say in complete honesty.
Wen Kexing smiled up at him, a breathlessly beautiful sight with his flushed cheeks, reddened lips and damp hair along his brow. In the face of such pure happiness, Zhou Zishu felt his heart skip a beat in response and he could only bend down to press a lingering kiss to those soft, welcoming lips.
Eventually, Zhou Zishu untangled their limbs and grabbed his robes to wipe them down before throwing the soiled robes to the side without care, ignoring Wen Kexing’s mumbled grumblings at the mess he was making of his own very nice clothes. They curled up together once more, Wen Kexing presumptuously arranging Zhou Zishu to his preference until they were both on their sides facing each other, with Wen Kexing’s chin hooked over Zhou Zishu’s shoulder. It was a position that only worked while they were lying down, as Wen Kexing was much too tall to do this comfortably when they were both upright.
Zhou Zishu found himself stroking Wen Kexing’s hair with a slow, peaceful rhythm while Wen Kexing’s hands wandered along his back, tracing his shoulder blades with admiring fingers. They were plastered together, chest to chest, their hearts perhaps beating to the same tune in such close proximity.
Zhou Zishu thought that Wen Kexing would drift off to sleep soon, considering their energetic night and how this was Wen Kexing’s first time. But defying all expectations as usual, Wen Kexing seemed rather lively and wanted to talk instead.
“A-Xu, I can’t believe you asked for me to join you in a coupling in such an unromantic way! No sweet words, no gifts, just asking, ‘do you want to find out for yourself if I have a working cock, yes or no’! It was so coarse and vulgar, no romance whatsoever.”
“Well...it worked.”
“A-Xu was such a rogue,” Wen Kexing grumbled, pausing in his idle touches to poke Zhou Zishu hard in the side.
Wincing, Zhou Zishu grabbed that offending hand. It was large in his own, fingers long and elegant when they weren’t jabbing people in the side. Squeezing that hand gently, Zhou Zishu placed it back on his waist and Wen Kexing spanned his hand along his side and waist instead. Wen Kexing’s hands were so large and they fit very nicely around Zhou Zishu’s own narrow waist. That was certainly food for some very interesting thoughts there…
“How was I a rogue?” Zhou Zishu asked half-heartedly, not really paying full attention to the words he was saying. “Not everyone can spout off flowery poetry at a moment’s notice, but that doesn’t make me a rogue.”
Wen Kexing shifted back so that he could see Zhou Zishu’s face instead. “No, I don’t expect flowery poetry from you, although I wouldn’t say no to pretty words.” He paused there for a moment, raising his eyebrows, but Zhou Zishu only raised his own eyebrows in turn, as if to say, ‘you’ll be waiting a long time if you’re expecting poetry right now.’ Pouting slightly, Wen Kexing continued, “I don’t expect romantic verses from you without notice, but I didn’t expect you to press me down so roughly.”
The sly, bright-eyed gaze belied his put-upon sulk. It seemed Wen Kexing was in a mood for some playful banter, despite everything they had done that night. Although Zhou Zishu felt the dragging weight of sleep after spending so pleasurably, both physically and emotionally, he couldn’t find it in him to deny Wen Kexing something so simple right now.
He gently brushed Wen Kexing’s hair back from his face and said, “Lao Wen, I did not even leave a single bruise on you. How is that being rough?”
Wen Kexing turned his face to press his cheek against Zhou Zishu’s moving hand, sighing softly as he gazed up at Zhou Zishu. Then Zhou Zishu watched as those generous lips turned up slowly, enticingly, and his dark eyes gained an impish sparkle.
“Why, A-Xu, that seems remiss of you.”
It took Zhou Zishu a moment to figure out what he meant, a little distracted by how beautiful Wen Kexing was, naked in his arms and clothed only in the golden glow of candlelight.
He raised his eyebrows when the meaning became clear to him. “Just a moment ago you were complaining that I pressed you down so roughly, and now you’re saying I’m remiss for not leaving bruises on you?”
“Who said I was complaining? It was only an observation. I like when A-Xu is being a rogue,” Wen Kexing said with a teasing smile. “I like when A-Xu finds it hard to hold back.”
He punctuated these words by pushing closer again, hip pressing between Zhou Zishu’s legs. It seemed that Wen Kexing wasn’t after playful banter after all.
Zhou Zishu drew in a sharp breath and asked incredulously, “Aren’t you tired at all?”
Half-shrugging awkwardly with one shoulder pressed to the bed, Wen Kexing said, “No, I’m not tired. But if you are, I know how it gets for men approaching your age…”
Unable to resist rising to the jab, Zhou Zishu rolled him over and then pinned him to the bed by his hands. Wen Kexing’s chest was already rising and falling sharply with anticipation.
“You’re insatiable,” Zhou Zishu said, indicating that he knew it had been a purposeful taunt...yet helpless to do anything but oblige. After all, how could he be expected to turn Wen Kexing down when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?
“I’m insatiable and greedy, but only when it comes to you,” Wen Kexing said without shame, not struggling the slightest bit as he stared up into Zhou Zishu’s eyes.
Zhou Zishu smiled and said, “What a fortunate coincidence that I feel the same for you,” before leaning down and kissing Wen Kexing.
It was still early when Zhou Zishu awoke, the deep gray of the morning lingering as the first beam of warm sunlight diffused across the mostly-dark skies. After so many years in Tian Chuang where he was frequently out on missions and had to tend to himself, Zhou Zishu was used to forcing his body to wake at the exact hour without requiring incense clocks or servants to awaken him. Ever since he left Tian Chuang and especially during these slow, quiet days in Siji Manor, he had let these habits fall to the wayside, sleeping in until mid-morning on some days. But it was not hard to pick up old routines again when needs must. He had purposefully woken up early today, because he had wanted to let Wen Kexing sleep in instead, had wanted to check if Wen Kexing was fine after the night of indulgence and then make breakfast.
Alas, by the time Zhou Zishu had begrudgingly and groggily pried his own eyes open, Wen Kexing was already missing from the bed. Zhou Zishu really had been too much of a lazy slug in recent days to not realize exactly how early Wen Kexing was rising every morning. He had thought Wen Kexing might take the opportunity to rest more this morning, but it seemed like he was wrong after all.
His soiled clothing and Wen Kexing’s likely wrinkled robes were all missing from the room, obviously having been removed by Wen Kexing. There was a time when it would have been impossible for Zhou Zishu to sleep through his bed partner leaving the bed — not that he ever literally slept with his bed partners — and it would have been utterly unimaginable to believe he would ever reach a point when he wouldn’t even stir when someone else was moving around the room, collecting their clothing and doing whatever else Wen Kexing had done in the morning.
Pulling on fresh robes, Zhou Zishu made his way through Siji Manor, heading towards the kitchen. For once, Zhang Chengling wasn’t awake yet as Zhou Zishu walked through the quiet, empty hallways, remembering with a familiar, echoing pang that this place used to house a thriving sect, with constant chatter and laughter filling these very same corridors. His footsteps slowed as the heaviness of that realization weighed down on him once more.
Then he came to a stop at the wide entrance to the kitchen, seeing a figure clad in deep green bustling about, long hair swishing behind him as he hummed tunelessly and stirred something in a pot.
A sweetness seeped into his heart at this dear sight, a new introduction to Siji Manor that had become familiar over the past month.
For all that Zhou Zishu had lost, at least he had this much. At least he had found Wen Kexing, his shidi once more.
Zhou Zishu slipped into the kitchen on silent feet and without warning, folded his arms around that sturdy waist. Sadly, he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, because Wen Kexing did not startle or express any shock at the sudden contact. He only leaned back slightly and said, “Good morning, A-Xu. You’re up early.”
Either Wen Kexing had heard him come in or he was just so used to Zhou Zishu’s presence that the sudden contact did nothing to surprise him. Zhou Zishu hoped it was the latter.
Peering over those broad shoulders, an act that required lifting slightly, just very slightly, onto his toes, Zhou Zishu looked down to see that the pot of congee was almost ready. “I was hoping to wake up earlier so that you could rest up this morning instead. How are you feeling?”
Wen Kexing turned his head, looking at Zhou Zishu with an amused smile. “You were going to prepare breakfast?”
“I can prepare breakfast,” Zhou Zishu defended himself quickly. “I’ve been feeding myself long before I met you.”
“You mean your subordinates were feeding you long before I met you. I don’t believe someone with your complete lack of culinary skills could have been feeding yourself for so long without you wasting away years ago.”
“I’m not that bad. See if I ever think of helping you out again when all I get are complaints,” Zhou Zishu grumbled.
Wen Kexing laughed, bright and carefree. “I wouldn’t ever complain about A-Xu making me something with his own two hands; I was just making a statement of fact. If you do want to make me any meals, I will happily accept all of them, no matter how burnt, raw, dry, watery, over or under seasoned.”
“Thank you for your magnanimity,” Zhou Zishu said wryly.
“Anything for you, A-Xu,” Wen Kexing sang out in reply.
For a moment, they only stood there quietly, Zhou Zishu enjoying the feeling of Wen Kexing’s body against him as he prepared breakfast. Then he pursued his earlier thought. “How are you this morning? Are you...sore?”
He watched as Wen Kexing’s ears turned a very light, charming shade of pink. Even so, Wen Kexing’s words were light and amused once more, not a shade of shyness or embarrassment in them. “I am sore. You were so rough with me last night, how will you make it up to me today?”
Zhou Zishu could tell that Wen Kexing must be feeling perfectly fine with his teasing words and his rather obviously good mood. “Well, I was going to make you breakfast…” Zhou Zishu replied, trailing off ominously.
“Your good intentions are appreciated, the action will not be necessary,” Wen Kexing said with a small laugh. “A-Xu, much as I’m really enjoying this extended morning embrace, I need to move now.”
Zhou Zishu sighed and pressed a kiss to the high curve of Wen Kexing’s cheek. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
He finally let go and took a step back. Abruptly, Wen Kexing turned around and in a quick move, pulled Zhou Zishu close by the waist, bending over him to sweep him up in a scorching, hungry kiss. By the time the kiss ended, Zhou Zishu’s lips felt swollen, slick with their shared saliva.
“I’ll take this as payment for your roguish behavior last night,” Wen Kexing said, hot breath brushing against Zhou Zishu’s lips.
Zhou Zishu’s eyes dipped to Wen Kexing’s parted, reddened lips and he leaned forward.
“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” came Zhang Chengling’s voice from behind Zhou Zishu.
Something really had to be done about the boy’s abominable sense of timing.
Clearing his throat, Zhou Zishu said without moving from where Wen Kexing was still holding him close. “Go and wipe the table in preparation for breakfast, Chengling.”
“Uhhh...right. I’ll just…” and then there was the pattering of his footsteps as he dashed off, obviously relieved to be away from what he had stumbled across.
Wen Kexing was smiling so wide that the corners of his eyes were crinkled. He released his hold on Zhou Zishu and shook his head as he went to his chopping board. “Oh, A-Xu, you didn’t see your little disciple’s face. He was so shocked!”
Under his breath, Zhou Zishu grumbled, “Why was he even shocked? We haven’t been subtle.”
“No, we really haven’t, have we?” Wen Kexing murmured in quiet happiness.
Breakfast was an exuberant spread of chicken and century egg congee, soybean milk, youtiao14, hot and dry noodles, and egg pancakes. Wen Kexing had spent an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen that morning, his good mood seeming to have translated into cooking up a feast for breakfast. After Zhang Chengling had cleaned and prepared the table, he ended up being sent to do balance training to improve his stability while they waited for breakfast to be made.
By the time they all sat down to eat, Zhang Chengling was hungry enough that he devoured a bowl of congee in complete silence. Zhou Zishu thought he wouldn’t speak of what he had seen and heard in the kitchen, since most young boys would prefer to pretend they had memory loss rather than talk about their shifu’s sex life, but of course, Zhang Chengling had always been different.
“Does that mean you’ll both go back to being normal now?” Zhang Chengling asked hopefully, after downing healthy portions of each of the dishes on offer.
Zhou Zishu raised an eyebrow. “Normal? Is it the place of the disciple to call his shifu and shishu abnormal, you brat?”
“But you really were acting oddly, with how you were both constantly staring at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking and saying strange things and going off somewhere together only to run away from each other…” Zhang Chengling muttered, picking up a sliced pancake with his chopsticks.
Of course, Wen Kexing laughed at that while Zhou Zishu glared at his errant disciple.
Before Zhou Zishu could scold him, Wen Kexing said, “Oh, Chengling, I’m sorry, but I think the abnormality will continue, but perhaps in a different way.” Then he looked at Zhou Zishu with hooded, teasing eyes. “After all, I’ve just been taught something new, and I want a chance to demonstrate to your shifu what a quick learner I am.”
While Zhou Zishu was not shy or hesitant at all to speak of more carnal matters, he wasn’t used to speaking about such things in front of young ears like Zhang Chengling’s. Zhou Zishu felt his cheeks heat in a rare moment of embarrassment and he glared at Wen Kexing.
“Teach something new? What—? Wait, I think...I don’t want to know,” Zhang Chengling said. He picked up a pair of youtiao and got up, saying, “I’m just going to chop some firewood. I think we’re running short.” Then he ran out without another word.
“Shameless,” Zhou Zishu said, still glaring at Wen Kexing.
Beaming in return, Wen Kexing said, “But you like me that way.”
And in the face of such pure happiness, Zhou Zishu could deny Wen Kexing nothing. He felt his lips tug up in a helpless, soft smile as he sighed, “I really do.”
THE END
Footnotes:
1 Gai lan - Chinese broccoli [ ▲ ]
2 “Raise a cup to toast the moon with me / With the moon, you and I will make three.” - Butchers the original poem Drinking Alone Under The Moon by Li Bai. Wen Kexing changes it so it’s no longer about the poet, drinking alone where there’s only him, his shadow and the moon to make three companions. [ ▲ ]
3 “My poetic feelings are like a magpie in the night sky / Circling three times, it still cannot settle on one branch.” - By Li Qingzhao, where the bird is a metaphor for the restlessness of her poetic impulse and the high standards she has for finalizing her poetic lines. [ ▲ ]
4 Doufuhua - Soybean custard in either a sweet or savoury syrup/sauce. [ ▲ ]
5 “The sky will snow with the arrival of eve / Would you drink this cup with me?” - An Invitation to Mr Liu by Bai Juyi [ ▲ ]
6 “My host says it’s been hard for us to meet / So drink a cup, ten times repeat / But would ten cups cause inebriation / Compared to our lifelong affection?” - Written for Scholar Wei by Du Fu [ ▲ ]
7 “When he turned his head and smiled, a hundred spells casting / All powder and paint of the Six Palaces, faded into nothing.” - Song of Everlasting Regret by Bai Juyi. Pronoun has been changed from ‘she’ to ‘he’ in this story. [ ▲ ]
8 “Tarry not with your five-horse coach” - Ballad of Four Seasons: Spring by Li Bai. A line when the beautiful lady Lo-Foh tells an unwanted suitor to move on.
“for this one already has a man” - A line from an older ballad on Lo Foh, regarding how she rejected her suitor. Li Bai’s poem was inspired by this ballad. [ ▲ ]
9 “In this place you must now part from me / We lone dandelions on a thousand mile journey.” - Seeing Off A Friend by Li Bai [ ▲ ]
10 “ride on two boats at the same time” - A saying that references a person who is having an affair. [ ▲ ]
11 “Zhou furen, please have some pity on this unworthy one.” - In Episode 18, Wen Kexing says, “Zhou husband, pity me ze ge ba,” where ‘ze ge’ has no real meaning except to convey an emotion (surprise/exclamation/questioning), and is referencing an ancient Chinese novel called The Plum in the Golden Vase where a man flirts with his concubine using this line ‘pity me ze ge ba’ before they proceed to have sex. In this story, Zhou Zishu repeats the same line back to Wen Kexing, except he refers to Wen Kexing as Zhou Furen, meaning Lady of Zhou family, his wife, to match Wen Kexing’s original line.
Technically, the matching term should be Wen wife, but it just sounded strange so Cerise and I did a lot of overthinking and settled on Zhou furen. The line has also been tweaked for readability in English since ze ge is not going to come across as anything understandable. [ ▲ ]
12 Ancient Chinese belief that there's a connection between kidney health and sex. [ ▲ ]
13 Not a poem, but ‘lotus’ is sometimes used in poetry as a pun for ‘to love’ or ‘lover’ and ‘picking lotus seeds’ as a metaphor for love-making. Wen Kexing is just being very suggestive. [ ▲ ]
14 Youtiao - Two long strips of dough that are deep fried and can be torn apart when you're about to eat them. It's typically eaten during breakfast, and can be eaten on its own, with congee or with soy milk. [ ▲ ]