Yan Dong had been holding back his emotions for several days, but upon seeing Yan Song, he finally burst into tears.
When he was younger, he often cried like this. His throat would tremble, startling the birds in the courtyard, and his little face would scrunch up like a juicy peach. Whenever Yan Song wiped his face, he would always wonder if this child was made of water. As he grew older, such outbursts became rare, only happening when they moved houses or when Yan Song was seriously injured.
The blanket was soiled, and the two of them sat on the couch outside. Yan Song held Yan Dong’s back with one hand and took the white fur coat handed over by Chang Qingqing with the other, wrapping Yan Dong up like a shivering snowman.
Seeing Yan Song shake his head, Chang Qingqing didn’t prepare hot tea but went inside to tidy up the bed.
Yan Song patiently waited for the person leaning on his shoulder to cry until he was tired and his voice softened before speaking, “Can you guess where I was when I received the flying letter?”
Yan Dong, sniffling, slowly opened the map in his mind and guessed, “Was it Luzhou?”
His voice trembled, soft and sticky like a melted cake, but salty. Yan Song was hit with a mouthful of it, his throat feeling sticky and blocked, but his hand continued to pat Yan Dong’s back, saying, “How did you guess so accurately?”
There was a hint of praise in his words, and Yan Dong couldn’t help but feel proud, saying, “With about seven days’ time, the flying letter arrives, and big brother returns. Even if you changed several fast horses and traveled day and night without stopping, the starting point couldn’t be Qianzhou, and the range wouldn’t be more than a thousand miles from the capital. The other day, Yu’er mentioned that the prefect of Luzhou, Chen Zhen, was harming the people, and there were rumors about the Fourth Prince being lost outside. I thought about it, and since big brother is the Chief of the Judicial Office with the authority to act first and report later, and also a key scholar in the Document Room, it’s not surprising for you to appear in Luzhou when the rumors involve a prince.”
His breath was uneven, and he couldn’t stop sobbing, making it difficult to speak.
“You’ve been cooped up in the house these days, but you haven’t turned stupid,” Yan Song continued to pat Yan Dong’s back. “The Fourth Prince is indeed alive, but his whereabouts are unknown. Do you want to know who he is?”
Yan Dong looked up, curiosity in his eyes, “Who is it?”
He had a pair of beautiful eyes, resembling peach blossoms when still, curving like crescent moons when smiling, and appearing innocent and naive when wide open. At this moment, they looked like a pair of bitter almonds soaked in rouge water. Yan Song caught the tears rolling down the edge of the almond shell with his fingertips and said seriously, “It’s me.”
“……”
Yan Dong blinked slowly, seemingly not comprehending. He stared at Yan Song for a long time, so long that Yan Song was about to change the subject when he finally came to his senses. He immediately raised his hand to cover half of his face and cooperated seriously in a low voice, “From today on, I’m part of the Fourth Prince’s faction—I’m Yan Dong, and I support the Fourth Prince as the heir!”
Having casually revealed such a huge secret, Yan Dong clearly didn’t believe it. Yan Song chuckled, gently shaking Yan Dong’s cheeks, “Silly.”
“Will he come back?” Yan Dong allowed himself to be rubbed, speaking unclearly, “Although I’ve never met him, I remember mother and Ming Consort were close friends. If the Fourth Prince is still around, mother would be pleased.”
Yan Song said, “I don’t know, but there are certainly many who don’t want him to return to the court.”
The news spread quickly in the capital, likely because the Second Prince missed capturing Song Fengmian, causing the plan for the Fourth Prince’s demise to fail. So, they stirred the waters, making everyone uneasy.
“Yes, the more people vying for the throne, the smaller the chances of winning… Wait!” Yan Dong suddenly exclaimed, “Wouldn’t that put big brother in a difficult position?”
The princes were polite to Yan Song, who was a close minister to the emperor, and it was both regrettable and fortunate that he didn’t take sides. But since Lady Yan and Ming Consort were close friends, some might worry that if the Fourth Prince returned, the Yan State Duke’s Mansion might lean towards him. More importantly, Yan Song held a sensitive position as the Chief of the Judicial Office, and there was concern that the one above might fear he harbored bias.
Yan Song wasn’t afraid, seeing the tear-streaked face scrunching up, he followed the conversation, “Since you know I’m surrounded by danger, shouldn’t you be good and help ease my worries?”
Yan Dong understood that this was a call for him to open up and not let others worry.
Looking at Yan Song’s travel-worn appearance, Yan Dong pursed his lips, feeling guilty, “Brother, I’m sorry…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong this time, there’s no reason for an apology.”
Yan Song lifted Yan Dong’s chin with a finger, wiping away the tears there, gazing at him calmly and gently. Without needing to say more, Yan Dong felt an unprecedented sense of peace. He didn’t have to worry that speaking out would cause excessive concern or make others think he was possessed or seeing ghosts; just saying it was enough.
With his heart open and his teeth unclenched, Yan Dong recounted the nightmare in detail. The shadow in his heart was hard to dispel, and after speaking, he couldn’t help but shiver.
The arm half-hugging him tightened slightly, silently comforting him. Yan Dong couldn’t help but clutch Yan Song’s sleeve, his fingertips cold and wet, likely from the snow on the sleeve.
“Qingqing,” Yan Dong called out, “go to Xunfeng Courtyard and get some clean clothes.”
“Let Chun Chun go,” Yan Song said to Chang Qingqing, who had come out, “The kitchen should be lit by now, tell them to make two bowls of plum blossom soup cakes and then take a rest.”
“Yes.” Chang Qingqing left the room and spoke to the man who looked very much like her in the corridor, “Brother, go back and get some clean clothes.”
Chang Chun Chun nodded and left, while Chang Qingqing went to the small kitchen.
“Sister also made me plum blossom soup cakes,” Yan Dong said softly.
Yan Song closed his eyes, indicating he hadn’t heard.
He let Yan Dong grab a clean spot, “It’s just a nightmare, no need to hide it from family and friends. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
Yan Song was indeed perceptive. Yan Dong sniffed, staring at the yellow jade bracelet on Yan Song’s left wrist, the one he had given him before he left home. He hooked a finger around the bracelet, saying, “I got a box of beautiful beads, I’ll make you a new bracelet tomorrow.”
Yan Dong had always liked making accessories for Yan Song, jingling and clanging them onto him, and Yan Song let him dress him up, never refusing.
“Alright,” Yan Song said, “go on.”
“The moment I woke from the nightmare, a strange yet natural realization suddenly appeared in my mind—you know, we’re actually characters in a storybook.”
After saying this, Yan Dong quickly glanced at Yan Song, who was momentarily stunned but didn’t show any signs of thinking he was being fooled or planning to take him to an exorcist the next day.
He breathed a sigh of relief, his speech quickening.
“The storybook is called ‘The Little Fox of the Heir’s Overbearing Favor’—don’t be disgusted, I think the name is quite straightforward. But it’s a story about male love, and I don’t even know which heir likes men!”
In Dayong, the heir to a hereditary title was commonly referred to as “Shizi,” not representing an official rank, just a term of respect. Yan Dong counted on his fingers, besides his big brother, there was only Cousin Cui from the Cui Junwang’s Mansion, Brother Hou from the Zhenyuan Marquis Residence, Little Marquis Li from the Anxin Marquis Residence, and He Shen from the Changning Bo’s Mansion.
Among these four, there were those he was close to, those he could play with, and those he didn’t get along with, but he had known them for over a decade. How come he hadn’t noticed any of them had a penchant for men?
Yan Dong’s fingers shifted, starting to play with the green jade ring on Yan Song’s hand, “Big brother, do you know who it is?”
Yan Song flattened his palm, “I’m not in charge of anyone’s waistband, how would I know?”
“Doesn’t your Judicial Office investigate even the private affairs of officials with their wives and concubines in their own beds?” Despite saying this, Yan Dong wasn’t really fixated on finding out who the overbearing heir was, “Alright, actually, who likes men isn’t important. What’s important is that I’m a character who dies at the beginning—it’s not a nightmare, but a premonition, it’s my fate.”
Yan Dong’s nose tingled, thinking he was born with good fortune, not only born into a prestigious family, but the Yan family was peaceful, without any internal strife. His family loved him, his friends were loyal, everything was smooth sailing, what could be bad? His siblings had clear goals and bright futures, so he was more relaxed, not thinking about bringing glory to the family, just wanting to live a life of luxury, and finally lie beautifully in a pretty coffin wearing nice burial clothes.
Who would have thought his good fortune would abruptly end before he turned eighteen, and in such a miserable and unlucky way.
His eyes, which had just rested, blurred again, and Yan Dong said, “I know hiding it would make people worry, but I’m really afraid they won’t be able to accept it. I really hope it’s just a nightmare, but I’ve never had such a realistic nightmare, and in the past few days, I’ve confirmed that everything in the dream: the colorful tassel coin string Monkey made when bored, the new snow bamboo fan face Yu’er changed, the red plum thick curtain Cheng Zhuang replaced, all of it is true.”
He clutched the jade ring tightly, his fingertips aching, “I fantasized about being a turtle, thinking if I didn’t go to Cheng Zhuang after the snow stopped, I wouldn’t die. But since I’m a character in a storybook, black and white, written and defined, it’s probably destined.”
This was the reason for Yan Dong’s melancholy these past few days.
Chang Chun Chun, carrying a basket, walked to the door. He was sharp-eyed and sharp-eared, able to hear the young master’s sticky, choking words.
But what did those words mean?
Chang Chun Chun was puzzled, and when he looked up, he met Yan Song’s gaze. He understood the master’s intention and didn’t immediately deliver the clothes inside.
“I’m not really afraid of dying, but I’m really unwilling and reluctant… Alright, whether I’m willing or not, I have to die, I can only grit my teeth and accept it. Just now, I wanted to leave a will, but since big brother is back, I’ll tell you verbally.” Yan Dong, tearful and sniffling, said, “First, if I die, I want to die in big brother’s arms, it’s the safest and warmest. Second, the saying about ghosts is probably false, when people die, they’re just a pile of bones, so you have to put my ashes in the double swallow pouch I gave you. When you miss me, take it out and look at it, if it breaks, ask mother to mend it, and make sure to scent it with stone leaf incense. Third…”
Yan Dong choked, trembling all over, struggling to say, “Since I can’t accompany big brother for long while alive, I hope you’ll hold the pouch when you’re a hundred years old, and we’ll be buried together, being good brothers for life. Also, remember to burn lots of paper money and ingots for me, I want to be a rich ghost even after death, and I need to bribe the ghost guards so I can wait a hundred years for you all to reincarnate together. Brother…”
He couldn’t continue, hugging Yan Song and crying silently, afraid of vomiting his heart and lungs all over him, but unable to control himself.
Yan Song patted Yan Dong’s back to soothe him, feeling like a storm was raging around his neck. He looked down at the person in his arms and said, “I’m not dead yet.”
These words were plain yet solemn, solemn yet plain, with an unclear meaning, inexplicable. Yan Dong looked up at Yan Song, hiccuping in confusion.
Of course, brother isn’t dead, brother will live a long life, live a long life, live a long life!
Yan Dong couldn’t speak at the moment, so he could only chant loudly in his heart, his swollen eyes staring at Yan Song, not wanting him to say anything inauspicious!
“You had this nightmare, not because the heavens are scaring you, but because they’re showing you kindness, giving us a chance.” Yan Song gazed at Yan Dong with calm and gentle eyes, both comforting and promising, “I will find out who is behind this as soon as possible and put an end to this nightmare for you.”
Yan Dong panted, resting for a moment before saying mournfully, “But I’m destined to die young, if I don’t fall off a cliff today, I might choke on water tomorrow… Wait, I won’t fall into a latrine and die, will I?! No way…”
“I’m not dead yet,” Yan Song said again.
Yan Dong didn’t understand the meaning of these words.
“If it were truly all predestined, with no room for change, then I wouldn’t have the chance to hear you say these things, but would instead suddenly hear news of your death at some place and time.”
Yan Song suddenly fell silent, and Yan Dong made a sound, only to have his eyes covered.
Unable to see, he could hear more clearly, Yan Dong pressed against his elder brother’s chest, the intense heartbeat pounding in his eardrums. Whether it was fear or anger, or some other emotion, he couldn’t tell, but since Yan Song didn’t let him see, he obediently didn’t look.
After a moment, the hand finally released, and Yan Dong saw Yan Song, the latter’s expression as usual, but his eyes were red.
Does brother cry too?
Yan Dong had never seen it before, but at this moment, he forgot to be surprised or curious, not looking any longer, hurriedly lowering his eyes to avoid it, as if he hadn’t discovered this secret.
“So,” after a while, Yan Song said, “just leave everything to me, you just need to eat well and rest well.”
Yan Dong’s lips moved, as if persuaded but still with a little concern, Yan Song raised his hand to smooth his brow, softly saying, “Tangyuan, be good.”
Tangyuan was Yan Dong’s nickname, because when he was young, he was extremely fair and cute, smiling sweetly, much like the sesame glutinous rice balls his mother loved. As he grew older, the nickname was used less, but hearing it suddenly now, Yan Dong was momentarily stunned, then realized his brother was coaxing him, and all his worries vanished, nodding heavily.
“Chun Chun, hot water,” Yan Song let Yan Dong sit steadily, went to the inner room’s wardrobe, and took out a long coat.
Yan Dong released the large fur coat like a blanket, spreading his arms as he did when waiting for Yan Song to dress him as a child.
Yan Song returned to help him dress, his hands like jade carvings, pleasing to the eye, but unfortunately, as he grew older, these hands could only be admired, not played with.
Yan Dong felt regret, and when he looked up, he saw Yan Song’s sharply defined lower face, with a small black mole about an inch below the left corner of his lips, particularly noticeable on his cold, snow-white skin.
When Yan Dong was younger, he had secretly used a cinnabar pen to dot this mole while Yan Song was resting at his desk. Yan Song didn’t notice when he woke up, and went to the community school with the little red mole, only to press him over his knee and spank him a few times when he returned home in the evening.
Although Yan Song was meticulous and considerate, he didn’t spoil the children unconditionally, and the ruler in the study was evidence of that. Tonight, he was so gentle, Yan Dong’s eyes curved, suddenly feeling a bit grateful for the nightmare.
The attendant brought in a basin of water, and Chang Chun Chun stirred a hot towel and handed it to Yan Song.
Yan Song wiped Yan Dong’s face and hands, the soft fabric rubbing against his palms, meticulously passing through his fingers. Yan Dong felt a bit ticklish, couldn’t help but shrink his neck, and looked up at Yan Song, who was so close.
The living King of Hell, feared by outsiders, had an exceptionally good appearance, like moonlight carved from jade, radiant and handsome, not like a mortal. Those phoenix eyes were long and sharp, yet deep and charming, very alluring. When Yan Dong was younger, during painting lessons, the teacher would have him paint mountains, water, stars, and the moon, and among the three or five paintings he submitted, at least one would be of those eyes.
Why does the young master do this? The teacher would hold his head, on the verge of collapse.
Yan Dong, however, was righteous, because those eyes contained mountains and water, like stars and the moon, unparalleled in beauty, encompassing all the wonders of the world.
Aside from that teacher, no one would likely reject those eyes, and being infatuated with them was quite normal. Thinking this, Yan Dong remembered something important and immediately asked, “Big brother, did you really go to the brothel to consort with prostitutes?”
The tail end of his question and his eyebrows rose together, as if hearing a “yes” would make him immediately flip out.
Yan Song chuckled, honestly admitting, “Going to the brothel is true, consorting with prostitutes is false.”
Yan Dong breathed a sigh of relief, as long as he wasn’t doing anything bad, who cared what he was doing at the brothel! Since big brother didn’t elaborate, it must involve official business, just like how the officials of Yongjing Prefecture would also arrest fugitives in brothels!
At this moment, Yan Song looked up, “Who told you?”
Yan Dong, full of loyalty, said, “I found out myself.”
Yan Song instantly saw through him, “From Zai Xi?”
“Ah,” Yan Dong immediately grabbed Yan Song’s sleeve, acting spoiled, “Yu’er knew I didn’t want to miss any news about big brother, so he told me. He’s cousins with the Fifth Prince, and he’s my good brother, so Xi Wang didn’t really avoid it!”
Yan Song chuckled, ruffling Yan Dong’s hair, “Let’s eat.”
Having made a promise and explained the scandalous rumors, Yan Dong felt greatly relieved, lying on the round table, slurping up the plum blossom soup cakes from the kitchen, not leaving a drop of soup.
He Bao, who was on duty with Chang Qingqing, brought a tray, and Yan Dong rinsed his mouth, then, under Yan Song’s gaze, went into the inner room and obediently got into bed.
After a while, Yan Song also went in. He stood by the bed, looking at the person staring at him with wide eyes, and said, “Have a good sleep, I’ll be back later.”
“Resting first before investigating isn’t too late,” Yan Dong worried, “In this cold winter, traveling day and night for several days, even an iron man needs to relax a bit, getting sick wouldn’t be good.”
“I know my limits.” Yan Song leaned over to tuck Yan Dong in, glanced at those swollen eyes, got up, and lowered the half of the light blue bed curtain at the foot of the bed, then turned and left.
Yan Dong stared blankly at the bedside until He Bao’s round face suddenly appeared in front of him, saying, “Shizi said your eyes need to be treated, otherwise you’ll wake up looking like a fat walnut.”
Yan Dong snorted with a nasal sound, and He Bao gently applied the medicinal cloth, cool and refreshing, a bit like the scent on Yan Song.
The heart that had been up and down, restless for days, calmed down because of the night returner, and Yan Dong exhaled, falling asleep to the smell of herbs.
A fluffy “Snowball” rolled into the dog bed by the bed, accompanying its owner to sleep.
He Bao stayed by the bedside, and as Yan Dong’s breathing gradually steadied, he suddenly breathed a sigh of relief, wishing he could go out and set off firecrackers.
Truly a miraculous medicine, working quickly!
On the other side, Chang Chun Chun followed Yan Song out of the Fengchun Courtyard.
The gold and jade shimmered in the snowy night, Yan Song walked to the osmanthus tree, stopping in the shadows and moonlight, his figure half-lit, half-dark, Chang Chun Chun couldn’t see his expression.
“At noon,” Yan Song called.
A young man in gray clothes, like a ghost, appeared in front of Yan Song, bowing with hands clasped, “Master.”
Yan Song said, “From this moment on, stay by his side.”
Yan Dong wasn’t without people to use, but these people acted on his orders, not daring to disobey, for example, if Yan Dong went out and didn’t let anyone follow, they wouldn’t dare to follow.
At Noon was one of the most capable secret guards by Yan Song’s side, rarely appearing in front of people, one of the hardest life-saving charms, yet Chang Chun Chun wasn’t surprised that Yan Song would assign him to the young master’s side.
People have weaknesses, exposed to the world, only to be protected with all their might.
At Noon understood the weight of these words, saying, “I swear to protect the young master with my life.”
Yan Song said, “Go.”
At Noon, his clothes fluttering, his lightness skill excellent, left no trace of his footprints in the snow.
Yan Song turned his head to look at the carved window of the willow swallows behind the camellia and snow bamboo, his gaze dark and unclear.
People, after all, need to be kept under watch to be at ease, not a moment’s breath can be relaxed, relaxing is like putting one’s heart, liver, spleen, lungs, family, and life on the edge of someone else’s sword, to be stabbed into a mess, regretting it too late. His previous slight letting go was originally to give Yan Dong the freedom to breathe, but now it seems, it also gave some people the opportunity to court death.
Chang Chun Chun asked for instructions, “Shizi, where should we start investigating?”
Yan Song’s gaze turned cold in the snow curtain, “Yu’s family.”