No wonder there was only one bed—
Hey!
An Xiao pressed his hand against his collar and pushed the other man's hand away. "I'm not changing!"
That was close—his clothes had almost been stripped right off him.
He pointed desperately at the ground. "Dirty! It's dirty!!"
The handsome man frowned and stopped.
An Xiao didn't dare let go of his collar. He scuffed the toe of his shoe, then lifted his foot to show him the dust, repeating patiently, "Dirty."
The handsome man looked at the shoe, then at him, and repeated, "Dirty."
An Xiao nodded eagerly. "Right, right. Dirty."
The handsome man: "*[Dirty]."
An Xiao blinked.
The handsome man pointed at his dusty shoe tip. "*[Dirty]."
This is… the word for dirty?
An Xiao hesitated, then repeated it after him.
The handsome man nodded, then reached for his clothes again.
An Xiao clutched them tight. "Not changing!!"
The handsome man spoke slowly, one word at a time. "**[Dirty]."
An Xiao blinked and repeated it.
What does that mean?
Not dirty?
Not afraid of dirt?
But the handsome man didn't explain. He just tugged at his clothes again.
An Xiao: "…"
There was no way he could move around without rolling up his sleeves and pant legs.
But if he did… in just that brief moment, the handsome man's eyes had already swept over his arms and legs several times!
And he'd swallowed!
He was a man too!
He'd not only eaten pork, he'd seen pigs run!!
…Seriously!
So there really were people who didn't care whether you were dressed properly or how much skin you showed—just seeing a bit of it was enough to make them…
He was mortified. After a combination of gesturing and shoving, he finally pushed the handsome man out and changed back into the pale moon-white robe he'd been wearing earlier—
He'd never worn anything so light and fresh before. How was it that he'd come to this remote mountain village and ended up wearing light-colored clothes?
Unbelievable.
When he came out after changing, the handsome man had already gone back to tinkering with the unfinished cabinet.
An Xiao shot him a dark look, then went to check on the boiling water.
Maybe because the firewood was plentiful, he could already hear the bubbling sound as he approached.
An Xiao looked around but didn't see anything suitable. He grabbed the hem of his own robe as insulation and reached for the lid—
His hand was caught.
An Xiao: "!"
He glared at the handsome man who'd suddenly appeared. "You scared me to death! What are you doing?"
He glanced suspiciously at where the man had been sitting.
The handsome man pulled his hand away with a stern face, lifted the lid, and said in a serious tone, "***."
An Xiao hissed and quickly gestured at him. "Put it down! Put it down now!"
The water in the pot was already boiling—how hot must that be!
The handsome man saw his tense expression, paused, and slowly set the lid down on a nearby stone.
An Xiao immediately grabbed his hand and turned it over.
Not red. Not swollen either.
He blinked and looked up at the handsome man.
The handsome man looked down at him too.
The handsome man had deep-set eyes with dark, heavy pupils. When he stared at someone like that, it carried an innate sense of deep affection.
An Xiao remembered that the two of them were in the kind of relationship where they could get deeply intimate, and felt his face inexplicably grow hot. He quickly let go of his hand and crouched down, pretending to tend the fire, avoiding his gaze.
The handsome man stood there watching him for a few seconds before turning and walking away.
An Xiao breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
He'd just arrived, and he really couldn't accept suddenly having a male partner he could get deeply intimate with—
Wait.
An Xiao threw down the firewood he'd pulled out and whipped his head around to glare at the handsome man. "Your partner's had a whole different soul swapped in and you don't even care? Are you that trash?"
The handsome man looked up, confused.
An Xiao stomped over with heavy footsteps and pointed at his nose. "You! Trash!! Ptooey!!"
The handsome man couldn't understand the words, but the tone and expression were unmistakable.
But the handsome man didn't react much. He just watched him quietly.
The one doing the scolding, An Xiao, was the first to feel guilty.
He started gesturing wildly, trying to explain.
He pointed at himself first: "Me,"
waved his hand, "not,"
pointed at himself again, "me."
"Understand?" He looked at the handsome man expectantly.
The handsome man's face was expressionless.
…Okay, he didn't understand.
An Xiao frowned, pondered, then switched to a different set of expressions—
Pointing at himself: "The original me."
Then he tilted his head back, rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue, "Already dead."
Then he made a motion of patting something into his head, dropped the deadpan expression, and bounced a couple of times, "Soul swapped."
Then he asked, "Understand now?"
The handsome man seemed to be thinking.
An Xiao was thrilled!
He continued with more gestures.
He pointed at the two of them alternately, hesitated for a moment, then walked over and hugged the other—immediately letting go and stepping back.
Then he made a gesture of pressing his palms together like sleeping.
Finally, he emphasized by pointing at the two of them alternately again.
…This whole sequence of gestures was ambiguous and couple-like enough, right? He must get it now, right?
The handsome man blinked slowly.
An Xiao repeated the whole death-and-soul-entering routine again.
Then he went to hug him again, sprang back instantly, and made a shocked, rejecting, dodging expression.
"Like this, understand?" He asked.
The handsome man nodded once.
An Xiao was overjoyed. He actually understood?
The next second, the handsome man shook his head again.
He pointed at An Xiao, then reached out and hugged him, let go, pointed at him once more, and said something.
An Xiao, who was released before he even had time to feel awkward: "?"
What does that mean?
The handsome man pointed at him: "***." The last syllable, stressed.
An Xiao pointed at himself, repeating that stressed syllable: "*?"
The handsome man shook his head, pointed at himself, and made a different sound; pointed at him, and made the stressed sound.
An Xiao understood, pointing at himself: "[Me]?" Then pointing at the other: "[You]?"
The handsome man nodded.
An Xiao was happy, muttering it softly to himself several times, and only after confirming he'd memorized it did he continue: "[I] what?"
The handsome man pressed him into his arms: "**[You]."
An Xiao: "…?"
He didn't understand.
So the handsome man didn't necessarily truly understand what he meant either, right?
It seemed learning the language was the top priority for now.
Frowning, he pushed the handsome man away and pointed at the pot lid: "What's this called?"
The topic changed abruptly, and the handsome man was stunned for two seconds before finally understanding, saying a word.
An Xiao immediately repeated it, memorizing it hard.
Then he pointed at a stone.
The handsome man looked helpless, said a word, turned around and went back to sit, continuing to fiddle with the wood.
An Xiao glanced at the still-boiling water but didn't follow.
He first brought out all the bowls and chopsticks, poured a little boiling water over them to sterilize everything.
The remaining half pot of water, he poured into the big bowl that had previously held the paste.
Then he started boiling a second pot of water.
Once the fire was going, An Xiao finally sidled over to the handsome man's side.
The handsome man was working on a wooden board, digging a hole here, carving a groove there, then taking a palm-sized, two-finger-thick stone slab and rubbing it back and forth across the surface a few times, feeling it with his hand, and once confirming it was fine, fitting it into the wooden frame.
The cabinet body was already taking shape.
An Xiao tentatively reached out and touched the wooden board fitted into the frame.
Although it wasn't painted, it was very smooth.
He looked curiously at the stone slab the handsome man had been using, and reached out to touch it—
His hand was stopped.
The handsome man: "***."
It was the same words he'd said before.
An Xiao tried to repeat: "***."
Don't touch?
The handsome man nodded, released him, and continued working.
An Xiao glanced at the dusty gravel floor, afraid of dirtying his clothes, and didn't dare sit down. Instead, he circled around him, learning to speak.
He picked up a wooden plank. "How do you say this?"
The handsome man glanced at it. "[Wooden plank.]"
An Xiao: "[Wooden plank.]"
He picked up a piece of tree bark. "How do you say this?"
"[Tree bark.]"
…
After frantically memorizing a bunch of words, An Xiao's throat was parched.
Fortunately, the boiled water he'd set aside earlier had finally cooled.
He poured two bowls of water and brought one over to the handsome man first.
The handsome man looked at him, puzzled.
An Xiao raised the bowl, mimed drinking, then handed it to him. "Drink."
The handsome man looked at the bowl, then at the second pot still cooling, deep in thought.
An Xiao nudged his arm and pushed the bowl forward. "Drink. You've been working nonstop without even a sip of water."
Hurry up and take it—he was dying of thirst himself.
The handsome man withdrew his gaze, swept it over An Xiao's lips, and took the bowl.
An Xiao sighed in relief. "You drink—?"
His chin was gently pinched, and the bowl was brought to his lips.
"Drink." The handsome man said calmly.
An Xiao: "…"
Maybe it was the handsome man's calm, downcast gaze that made it feel respectful rather than intrusive.
Or maybe he was just too thirsty.
Either way, he inexplicably… drank.
It wasn't until he'd taken several gulps that he snapped back to reality. He quickly turned his head away, broke free from the other's grip, and awkwardly took the bowl. "[I]'ll do it."
The handsome man released the bowl, but his fingers on An Xiao's chin followed, stroking the spot he'd just pinched, then… landing at the corner of his mouth, gently rubbing.
An Xiao froze, looked up, and found the other's gaze fixed intently on his… lips. Those dark eyes were sharp and focused, like a beast of prey watching its quarry, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And he was the prey.
An Xiao broke out in goosebumps.
He quickly slapped the handsome man's hand away and stumbled back several steps. "I-I'll go get you another bowl."
He scurried off with the bowl.
The gaze behind him seemed to linger for a long time. An Xiao pretended not to notice, dawdling as he finished the water in his own bowl, then picked up the other bowl and turned back.
The handsome man was still watching him.
An Xiao kept his eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze, pretending to look at the water, at the ground—anything but him.
As he walked, he muttered to himself. Truly a player, with such skilled seduction tactics.
No wonder he didn't care that he'd swapped bodies.
The handsome man's gaze stayed fixed on his face until An Xiao shoved the water bowl right in front of him.
He slowly withdrew his gaze, took the bowl, and drained it in one go.
An Xiao's hand hadn't even had time to pull back.
Speechless, he took the empty bowl and said, "If you were this thirsty, why didn't you say so earlier? I'll pour you another bowl."
The handsome man looked at him, confused.
An Xiao ignored him and turned back to pour more water.
Judging by the situation, the bed, table, and stools in the room were all handcrafted by the handsome man. He couldn't do woodwork, so he might as well do other chores.
Then he proceeded to pour the handsome man three more bowls of water.
The handsome man downed every single one.
An Xiao: "…"
This thirsty?
He simply brought the entire pot of boiled water over to the handsome man.
The handsome man looked at him, then at the pot, and understood. He picked it up and chugged.
An Xiao was shocked, reaching out a hand. "—No! How can you just pick it up?!"
Can you even finish it all in one go?!
So unsanitary!!
Just as he finished speaking, the handsome man handed him the empty pot, wiped his mouth, and stared at him steadily.
An Xiao: "…"
He inexplicably sensed a look of "praise me" on that expressionless face… Was it just his imagination?
Wait, was this guy part water buffalo or something? That pot had to be at least two to three thousand milliliters?!
He was still in shock when the handsome man suddenly turned and looked toward the small grove of trees—the same direction those two older men had come from earlier.
An Xiao snapped back to attention and followed his gaze.
He saw nothing.
The next second, the handsome man strode forward, reaching the boundary where grass met gravel in just a few breaths, and stopped.
An Xiao instinctively followed.
"**." The handsome man turned back, pointing at the ground beneath his feet, his tone firm. "****."
Two of the sounds were familiar.
He'd said them when he lifted the pot lid and picked up the stone.
Did they mean "don't"?
Don't come over?
An Xiao hesitated and stopped, standing there watching him.
Once the handsome man confirmed he wasn't moving, he looked toward the small grove again.
After a moment, three figures emerged from the trees: the older woman with the braid, the tall skinny young man, and a half-grown girl with a braid as well.
An Xiao's gaze sharpened. The first two—how did he seem to recognize them?
From… a nightmare?
…
…
Could it be that it wasn't a nightmare?