“You have been lingering outside for quite a while.”
A low voice came from overhead.
Rong Xuanhe was startled. The white figure had materialized behind him at some point, his robes fluttering gently in the mountain wind.
“Why do you walk without making a sound?” The youth complained, “I was only out for half an hour, and you are already rushing me. Wasn’t I just about to head back?”
Prisoners let out for a breath of fresh air probably had it better than this.
Su Wenchuan turned around and walked a couple of paces. Hearing no footsteps following him, he turned back to look the youth over twice, “Cannot walk anymore?”
“Correct,” Rong Xuanhe dangled his foot, humming softly, “Exhausted.”
Even if the king of heaven himself arrived today, he was going to wait for the flying carriage.
Su Wenchuan opened his arms, “Get on.”
Rong Xuanhe froze, feeling a bit embarrassed. He pressed his lips together and muttered softly, “It is not quite that bad.”
To prove he was capable, he stood up and forced himself to walk a few steps. Seeing this, Su Wenchuan dispensed with further nonsense, leaning over to scoop him up directly.
In a flash, the humiliating memory of being carried sideways all the way through the Den of Iniquity surged back into his mind. Instinctively, he threw his arms around the man’s neck, clinging to Su Wenchuan like a koala.
Unable to help himself, he tried to negotiate, “Can you fly lower?”
Since there was nowhere to plant his feet in this position, he suffered from a mild fear of heights.
Su Wenchuan ignored him, maintaining a steady pace as he walked back step by step.
Rong Xuanhe opened his mouth to speak, swallowed his words, and said awkwardly, “So, we are not flying after all.”
He wanted to be put down, but Su Wenchuan kept a tight grip on him, asking indifferently, “Did you memorize all the surrounding paths?”
“I did not,” the youth replied in a voice no louder than a mosquito’s hum, “It is a sting operation, I am not falling for that.”
Do not take him for a fool.
Su Wenchuan carried him all the way back like this. Along the way, they inevitably crossed paths with others. Every single person paused in surprise before lowering their heads in a bow, their facial expressions managed with absolute perfection.
Mortified to the core, Rong Xuanhe wanted to bury his face away, yet he feared Su Wenchuan might think he was being overly squeamish. In the end, he braced himself and let his hands drop.
Fortunately, the distance was not too long. Once they entered the palace gates, the passing foot traffic gradually thinned.
Lunch was served in the side hall, consisting entirely of light dishes.
Rong Xuanhe could tell instantly from the first bite that those two chefs were the ones manning the stoves. On the journey here, the pair had already figured out his preferences and prepared only the foods he loved.
He was not actually a picky eater; back when he was acting, maintaining a strict figure meant policing his diet regardless of whether he liked the food or not. Now that he no longer needed to appear on camera, his stomach happened to be ruined, causing him to throw up if he ate even slightly too much.
Halfway through the meal, a servant-like figure suddenly appeared outside the door, whispering a few words to Chunsheng.
Chunsheng quickly entered to report, “Exalted Lord, the spiritual wine brewed last year was unsealed today. Would you like to taste it first?”
Su Wenchuan raised his eyes, “Leave it be.”
The servant acknowledged the order and withdrew. A moment later, he returned carrying a white jade wine flagon, placed it by the edge of the table, and silently retreated outside.
Rong Xuanhe stared at the wine flagon, sniffing lightly.
A lingering, delicate, sweet wine aroma drifted toward his nose, somewhat resembling the specialty cocktails he used to drink before transmigrating. He wondered what this spiritual wine tasted like.
Noticing him staring intently at the flagon, Su Wenchuan asked indifferently, “Want a drink?”
Rong Xuanhe did not answer immediately, but Chunsheng smiled and chimed in, “This is brewed from spiritual fruits grown in the mountain and sealed for a year. If the young master is interested, you may have a taste, just do not overindulge.”
Rong Xuanhe’s eyes lit up, his cravings instantly hooked.
“Then, may I have a taste?” He turned to look at Su Wenchuan, his gaze carrying a hint of testing the waters.
Su Wenchuan said nothing, which served as tacit permission.
Chunsheng picked up the flagon and poured out a translucent, greenish-jade liquid.
A crisp, refreshing fruity fragrance immediately permeated the air, prompting Rong Xuanhe to take a deep, involuntary sniff.
He picked up his cup, brought it close for a light sniff, and then licked a drop off with the tip of his tongue like a cat.
His pink tongue swept across the liquid, picking up a few droplets that glistened brightly against his full lip before being licked away.
Su Wenchuan’s gaze dropped to that spot, his eyes darkening slightly as Chunsheng tactfully and quietly withdrew.
The wine was sweet with a faint sourness, carrying a crisp, refreshing coolness that slid down his throat like peppermint, offering a truly unique flavor profile.
The youth’s eyes brightened, “Delicious.”
He eagerly went to pour himself some more, then seemed to remember something, hurriedly filling the empty cup in front of Su Wenchuan as well, pushing it across with hopeful eyes, “You should drink too.”
That was a close one, he almost forgot about this God of Slaughter.
Su Wenchuan glanced at him, then at the wine in the cup, pondering for a fleeting second.
Thinking the man felt it was too little and getting ready to pour more, Rong Xuanhe watched as Su Wenchuan instead picked up the cup, brought it to his lips, and took a shallow sip.
Truly, just a single sip.
The wine in the cup barely diminished; the man seemed to have merely touched his lips to it, displaying a complete lack of interest.
Was it not to his taste?
Rong Xuanhe opened his mouth to ask, but suddenly saw Su Wenchuan put down the cup and rub the bridge of his nose.
“Thud.”
The next second, the man collapsed right where he sat.
???
Rong Xuanhe was dumbfounded.
He muttered to himself, “No way.”
He only took a single sip!
How could anyone have a liquor tolerance this abysmal!
He briefly suspected Su Wenchuan was playing a trick on him, waving a hand in front of the man’s face, but received no reaction.
“Senior? Senior Su? Su Wenchuan?”
Slumped across the table, the handsome face remained completely still, suggesting the man had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Emboldened, he gave him two pushes, yet Su Wenchuan still did not respond.
This truly exceeded expectations.
Now it was Rong Xuanhe’s turn to rub the bridge of his nose.
Taking a deep breath, he wanted to ask the child servant what to do, only to turn around and find that the child servant had long since vanished from the vicinity, leaving not a single soul in sight inside or outside the hall.
Rong Xuanhe had no choice but to circle around most of the table, attempting to haul Su Wenchuan up and support him to the bed.
The man was a full head taller than him, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. He looked lean, but weighed as much as a stone. Weaving his arm through the man’s and propping up his shoulder with his other hand, Rong Xuanhe wobbled under the weight, laboriously shuffling toward the bed.
Having barely taken two steps, the youth panted heavily, “Why must you grow so tall?”
Before he could finish his sentence, his foot caught on something on the floor. Before Rong Xuanhe could react, his entire body toppled forward, dragging Su Wenchuan down with him.
“Hiss.”
The youth let out a muffled groan. Fortunately, the bedchamber floor was covered in wooden paneling, so the fall was not terribly painful.
Su Wenchuan landed squarely on top of him, pressing down hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs.
That stern, handsome face was just inches away, warm breath brushing against his cheek and neck, carrying the crisp, sweet fragrance of spiritual wine.
The man’s eyes were tightly shut, his eyelashes casting a small fan-like shadow beneath his eyes. With his deep brow ridges and high bridge of the nose, he exuded a cool, striking aesthetic, handsome enough to dazzle the senses.
Rong Xuanhe’s breathing tightened.
When this face was neither speaking nor terrifying, it possessed quite a deceptive quality.
As the youth stared in a daze, the person pinning him down suddenly moved his lips.
“Do not chase him away.”
His voice was as soft as a dream murmur, exceptionally fragile.
Chase whom away?
Rong Xuanhe blinked, tilting his ear to listen closer.
“You people, do you not just want to…” Su Wenchuan’s brow furrowed slightly, as if fighting something off in a dream, his words coming in disjointed fragments, “Fine, then I shall go with him.”
His speech was completely slurred, though a few key terms remained clear enough.
After a brief moment of thought, Rong Xuanhe concluded that someone wanted to drive away a person Su Wenchuan deeply cared about, and Su Wenchuan refused, while finding himself at a disadvantage.
Yet who on earth could possibly push this God of Slaughter into a weak position?
Feeling somewhat puzzled, he gave Su Wenchuan a push. Far from budging the man, his hand was suddenly grabbed instead.
Wincing in pain as he tried to struggle free, the man’s hand clamped onto his wrist like an iron vise, a hoarse voice muttering, “Rong Lü! Do not listen to them, come with me.”
The youth froze instantly.
Rong Lü.
Who?
Could it be that long-dead person of Su Wenchuan’s?
Uncle Li’s words seemed to echo in his ears once more, Little Rong, coupled with this cry of Rong Lü.
Almost instantaneously, the answer became self-evident.
The youth lowered his gaze, prying open the man’s fingers one by one to pull out his reddened wrist, and slowly crawled out from beneath Su Wenchuan.
The tipsiness brought by the spiritual wine dissipated completely at that moment, clearing his head.
Well, blame the system.
Having spent a few days without speaking, he had almost lost track of his own identity.
Rong Xuanhe gave his face a light, practiced pat to slap away those inappropriate thoughts, then bent down and expended a great deal of effort to drag and haul the man up onto the bed.
Su Wenchuan remained fast asleep and completely oblivious, his thin lips pressed tightly together. Perhaps due to the lingering potency of the spiritual wine, a very faint flush tinged his cheeks, resembling a splash of rouge accidentally spilled upon cold white xuan paper.
He looked completely devoid of defenses.
Given that this was his home, feeling secure was only natural after all.
Rong Xuanhe sat by the bedside in a daze, looking at his own wrist, then back at the calm, evenly breathing figure on the bed.
A gentle breeze blew past, causing the shadows of the sunlight to sway back and forth, casting the youth’s reflection wandering across the wall like a lonely soul with nowhere to go.
Yet even a lonely soul had a home of its own.
His parents had divorced early and neglected him, so he learned to look after himself. After graduating from junior high school, he worked a summer job, and the money he earned was just enough to rent a tiny room.
He lived there for three full years. The walls were covered in cozy wallpaper, and a wind chime bought from a two-dollar store hung by the windowsill. Every time the wind and rain blew, as long as he closed the window, he could shut out all those noisy sounds.
What was he considered in this place?
A substitute? A display piece? Or merely a body pillow for someone to reminisce about the past?
Rong Xuanhe sat for a long time, until the birds outside cooed noisily, before snapping back to his senses.
A flood of noises poured back into his ears.
He stood up, tiptoeing as he prepared to walk out.
A hand suddenly shot out from behind, wrapping naturally around his waist.
Rong Xuanhe stiffened all over. Behind him, Su Wenchuan had opened his eyes at some point, rubbing his temples as he asked in a low voice, “Where are you going?”
“I, I am going to tidy up the table,” Rong Xuanhe replied off the cuff.
“Someone else will clean it.” Su Wenchuan pulled him back without giving him a choice. Rong Xuanhe instinctively dodged, causing the man behind him to pause and ask, “What is wrong?”
The youth said softly, “It is not yet bedtime, is it?”
Su Wenchuan fell silent for a moment, pulling back the covers to sit up. Before he could say anything, Chunsheng’s voice rang out from outside the door, “Exalted Lord, people from the clan have arrived and are waiting in the front hall.”
His brow knitted, “Who?”
“It is the Second and Third Clan Elders, saying they are here to congratulate the Exalted Lord on your seclusion breakthrough.”
The man’s brow furrowed deeper, looking somewhat impatient as he said indifferently, “Understood.”
With that, he released his grip on Rong Xuanhe’s waist, “I will have Chunsheng escort you back.”
Before the words faded, the system chimed.
[Triggered Task: Mistaking Jade for Green]
[Please host appear before Su Wenchuan dressed in red before 12 tonight.]