“Yu’er, you you are truly amazing.” Yu Tingzheng held the paper up to inspect it, then brought it closer to his eyes; he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. “I… I really… like it.”
Pei Qingyu’s fingertips twitched. He reached out and pinched the boy’s cheek. “It isn’t difficult. Practice more, and you can write it yourself.”
Yu Tingzheng froze. He didn’t move his head, allowing the other to pinch him as the smile on his face never faded. He hummed in agreement.
Though Tingzheng appeared thin and small, his face was surprisingly fleshy and soft to the touch. Pei Qingyu didn’t pull his hand away; he couldn’t resist giving it another gentle squeeze.
Then he heard Tingzheng mumble, “Yu’er, your hand”
Pei Qingyu looked up and saw that the boy had placed his own hand on the back of his. Tingzheng let out two silly giggles. “So soft. Unlike… mine. Mine is… very rough.”
Simpleton.
Pei Qingyu glanced at Tingzheng’s hand it was coarse, yellowish, and covered in calluses, the hand of someone long accustomed to farm work. A dull sting pricked his chest, and he said sullenly, “I don’t do manual labor.”
“Yu’er shouldn’t… do manual labor,” Tingzheng said. “It is… very tiring.”
Pei Qingyu had been pampered since birth; this was the first time in his life someone had ever spoken to him this way. His heart felt complicated. He gave the soft cheek one last pinch and said, “From now on, you won’t have to do manual labor either. Your hands can be nursed back to health.” He withdrew his hand. “It’s time for bed.”
Remembering something, he shot a chilling look at Tingzheng. “If you wake up late again tomorrow, we’ll be late for school.”
He was referring to Tingzheng’s fumbling with his clothes that morning. Tingzheng’s face flushed as he felt a wave of embarrassment. He quickly tucked his books into the box. Finally, he took the paper with his name on it and looked at it one last time, cherishing it as if it were a treasure. He called out to Pei Qingyu, “Yu’er, c-can I have this?”
Pei Qingyu had already climbed into bed and didn’t seem to care. “It was yours to begin with. You don’t need to ask.”
He watched as the little stutterer folded the paper carefully and tucked it away into the bottom of the book box like a precious relic. He was speechless, yet a strange sense of secret joy bubbled up inside him, and the corners of his mouth lifted unconsciously.
As Yu Tingzheng got into bed, the Young Master remembered his earlier grievance and warned, “You are not allowed to sneak into my arms tonight.”
Yu Tingzheng’s cheeks turned a sudden crimson. “I… I won’t… anymore.”
True to his word, he didn’t sneak over to Pei Qingyu’s side. However, he ended up hogging the quilt. In the middle of the night, Pei Qingyu began to cough incessantly. His hand searched for the bedding but couldn’t pull it back, so in his dazed state, he moved toward the warmth.
When they woke the next morning, it wasn’t Tingzheng in Pei Qingyu’s arms; it was Pei Qingyu in Tingzheng’s.
Yu Tingzheng felt a sense of inner balance. He didn’t mind the other sleeping in his arms at all; in fact, it made him feel very secure. Surely, Pei Qingyu wouldn’t be angry with him this time.
But Pei Qingyu didn’t wake up. He coughed a few times; his face flushed with an unnatural fever. Tingzheng couldn’t rouse him; he reached out to touch the boy’s forehead and quickly withdrew his hand, startled by the heat.
How can he be this hot?
“The Young Master has developed a high fever.” A-Tong placed a damp cloth on Pei Qingyu’s forehead. He went out to order the maids, Wanxiang and Wantang, to decoct medicine while he went to find Madam Pei.
The room was left with only Yu Tingzheng and the unconscious Pei Qingyu.
Tingzheng’s face was deathly pale. He guessed that he had caused this by stealing the quilt, making the Young Master catch a chill. He stood by the bed, wringing his hands, lost in a helpless panic.
Madam Pei and the butler arrived in a hurry. After assessing the situation, she ordered the butler to rush to Luozì City to summon a physician. The butler didn’t even stop to pack a bag before galloping away.
That day, Yu Tingzheng did not go to the academy. Aside from using the latrine, he stayed by Pei Qingyu’s bedside, praying for him to get better. He confessed the situation to Madam Pei, but she did not blame him. She only told him that the two of them should sleep closer together in the future and ordered a larger quilt to be made.
The day passed, and Pei Qingyu only woke twice. He couldn’t eat anything; each time he woke, he drank a little water before drifting back to sleep.
It took a full day of hard riding to reach Luozì City. By the time the butler returned with a physician, it was already the night of the second day.
Whenever Yu Tingzheng fell ill, he usually recovered within a day. Yet by the second day, Pei Qingyu was still burning up, his face pale and his lips devoid of color. He looked even worse than before.
The physician went straight to the room to take his pulse and apply acupuncture. They labored through the night without a moment of sleep. Finally, as the first light of dawn broke, Pei Qingyu opened his eyes.
Madam Pei went outside to speak with the physician, leaving Tingzheng to watch the room. Hearing Pei Qingyu rasp for water, Tingzheng scrambled up and poured a cup before the maids could reach it. He helped the boy sit up and fed him little by little.
After drinking, Pei Qingyu began to cough again. Yu Tingzheng held him, gently patting his back. The boy in his arms felt fragile, delicate, and soft; holding him made Tingzheng’s heart tremble. He had never seen someone so precious and didn’t dare use too much force, fearing he might break him.
Once the coughing stopped, Pei Qingyu realized he was leaning against the boy’s chest. He froze for a second, murmured a “thank you,” and pushed him away. Tingzheng felt a trace of regret; he actually wanted to hold him a little longer. As for why he wanted that, he couldn’t quite figure it out.
After a long silence, Pei Qingyu spoke: “Yu Tingzheng, I need to use the latrine.”
He hadn’t left the bed for nearly a day and couldn’t hold it any longer. Swallowing his pride, he asked for help.
Yu Tingzheng blinked, processing the request. He helped the boy off the bed, mumbling, “Yu’er… you must have been… holding it… for so long. Why… didn’t you… say so sooner?”
As he spoke, Pei Qingyu stumbled. Tingzheng let out an “ah” of worry. “Yu’er… can you walk? Do you want… me to… carry you?”
“No need.”
Pei Qingyu’s thin lips pressed together. His sickly pale face flushed a deep pink. He endured it as long as he could before snapping, “I wasn’t holding it that long!”
Yu Tingzheng didn’t pay attention to the denial. He was still worried about the stumble, so he kept one arm around the boy’s waist and the other gripping his hand, nearly embracing him fully. The hand on his waist was too prominent to ignore; Pei Qingyu gritted his teeth and felt his ears grow hot. When they stepped outside and the cool breeze hit them, he felt a bit of relief, until they turned a corner and saw Madam Pei talking with the physician under the veranda.
“The Young Master is indeed much better than when he was in Luozì City,” the physician said. “It seems the chongxi marriage ritual is truly working. That mystic is not the charlatan others claim him to be.”
“Yu’er still doesn’t know that the companion I found for him is not a brother, but a spouse,” Madam Pei said. “I thought that if the ritual failed, I would let Zheng’er simply be his brother, and we would treat him well. But looking at them now, their fate is deep. They are destined to be husband and wife.”
“When does the Madam intend to tell the Young Master?” the physician asked. “Perhaps he will recover even faster once he knows.”
Madam Pei sighed. “The two of them are still so young.”
“Mother.” Pei Qingyu pulled away from Yu Tingzheng’s support, his face darkening as he stepped forward. “You bought him, just to save me through a chongxi marriage?”
“Yu’er…” Madam Pei hadn’t expected him to hear. A rare look of panic appeared on her face. “Your health will not improve, and your father and I cannot rest. The mystic calculated it—your horoscopes are perfectly matched. This marriage can help dispel your calamity and ensure you safely pass your eighteenth year.”
“But he is also a man! How, how can we be husband and wife?” Pei Qingyu covered his mouth and coughed. “Is he truly the only one in the world with a matching horoscope?”
“Yu’er.” Seeing him so agitated, Madam Pei sighed helplessly. “The mystic was clear Zheng’er is the most suitable. If we could have found just anyone, why would I have traveled so far to bring you to Yanti Village?”
Yu Tingzheng stood where he was, staring blankly at the scene. Pei Qingyu caught sight of him and began to cough even more violently. “We are both men… cough cough… where in the world do two men… cough cough cough… become husband and wife?”
“Why shouldn’t they?” Madam Pei supported him, rubbing his back to soothe him. “Among the great clans and nobility in the capital, which of them doesn’t keep a male companion? There are many ‘broken sleeves’ in this world. You have been sickly and have never left Luozì City; how could you know what happens in the world outside?”
Pei Qingyu stopped coughing. He listened in a daze, a rare look of bewilderment on his face.
Between a man and a man, can it truly be done?