As soon as those words left Su Ce’s lips, he noticed the intense, searing gaze in A-Huai’s eyes and cursed inwardly.
He knew exactly what was going on in A-Huai’s mind.
A-Huai’s lips parted as if to speak, but Su Ce cut him off roughly: “Spare me that nauseating drivel. You’re a grown man why must you be so obsessed with love and affection? Isn’t it disgusting?”
As they spoke, warm sunlight filtered through the gaps in the peach tree branches, casting light upon them.
When Su Ce raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare, he snuck a glance at A-Huai and saw the look of utter defeat on his face.
A sense of joy welled up in Su Ce’s heart a feeling of victory in their emotional tug-of-war. Yet, this joy did not last long before it was replaced by a strange sense of loss.
He realized that very few people treated him with genuine sincerity, and A-Huai was the only one. Even though A-Huai harbored improper thoughts, he was offering a sincere heart that Su Ce insisted on trampling.
Peach blossoms fluttered across the sky in the breeze, falling as the wind died down.
A-Huai did not answer Su Ce’s question. Instead, his expression turned serious as he stepped forward, grabbed Su Ce’s wrist from just a pace away, and suddenly raised his hand.
Su Ce was startled and unable to break free. Seeing A-Huai’s hand moving closer, he squeezed his eyes shut and cried, “What are you doing! Are you going to hit me? You heartless”
The blow he imagined never came. Instead, he felt a soft, gentle touch atop his head.
The sensation was unfamiliar to him; once, a long time ago, his mother had touched his head just like that.
As time drifted by, memories he thought he had long forgotten were suddenly reclaimed through the impudent actions of a mere servant.
“Young Master, a peach petal had landed in your hair.” A-Huai’s warm breath brushed against the top of Su Ce’s head.
Su Ce said, feeling awkward, “Finished? Then let go. You’re pinching my wrist.”
Hearing this, A-Huai quickly released him.
Su Ce rotated his wrist slightly, then scoffed and turned to leave. Just then, he heard A-Huai speak again: “Young Master, could you take A-Huai to Suzhou once?”
“What did you say?” Su Ce stopped and turned to look at A-Huai, seeing that he was truly pleading with him.
He couldn’t help but laugh aloud and retort, “A-Huai, have you done something extraordinary, or are you someone of such high status? Why should I take you just because you want to go?”
“Young Master, if you take A-Huai to Suzhou just once, A-Huai will stop following you.”
A-Huai spoke with absolute sincerity, as if he had made a plan long ago.
Su Ce glanced at A-Huai and, in the end, said nothing. He stomped off, kicking a stone along the path in a fit of rage.
Back in his room, Su Ce grabbed a priceless blue-and-white porcelain vase and hurled it to the ground. Smashing one wasn’t enough to vent his frustration; he kicked the flower stand over as well.
Then, in a terrifying frenzy, he smashed everything in the room that could be broken until the clean, tidy space was reduced to a chaotic wreck.
Who does A-Huai think he is! Why should I have agreed to let him be my male concubine? And now that I’ve tormented him to the point he can’t take it, he wants to leave? And he expects me to take him to Suzhou before he goes? What right does he have? Is it because of his handsome face? Or because he knows how to take care of people?
However, it was true that very few people possessed both traits.
The more Su Ce thought about it, the angrier he became. He looked around the room, but not a single thing belonged to A-Huai.
He collapsed to the floor, finding himself utterly ridiculous—so ridiculous that he realized his vision was blurring.
When A-Huai entered the room, he was carrying a packet of pastries he had bought. He carefully stepped around the debris, but accidentally stepped on a wooden rod and nearly tripped, catching his balance just in time.
He looked toward Su Ce, who was clearly awakened by the noise, and was met with a pair of furious eyes staring straight at him.
“Young Master, I bought you some pastries.”
The fire Su Ce had managed to dampen ignited once more. He strode over to A-Huai: “Is there anything good I haven’t eaten? Do I need your cheap pastries? Have you been wanting to leave me for a long time?”
A-Huai kept his eyes lowered and said nothing.
Seeing his silence, Su Ce kicked the overturned table and roared, “Speak! Are you a mute?”
“No, I am not.” A-Huai gripped the pastries tighter.
“Then what is it?” Su Ce gave him a chance to explain.
A-Huai pondered for a moment, hesitating before saying to Su Ce, “Today, I spoke out of turn. I hope the Young Master will forgive me.”
“I will not take you to Suzhou, and don’t you dare think of leaving. Once you enter my Su residence, you think you can come and go as you please? You’re dreaming!”
With that, Su Ce snatched the pastries from A-Huai’s hands, turned away, and commanded: “Clean up the room.”
Before he could pop a pastry into his mouth, he heard A-Huai ask, “If A-Huai doesn’t leave, will the Young Master take me?”
Su Ce resisted the urge to crush the pastry to dust and demanded, “What could you possibly have in Suzhou that you must go there?”
“A-Huai just wants to see the place where the Young Master grew up.”
Su Ce’s hand trembled; the pastry tumbled to the floor.
A flash of sorrow crossed his face, but he didn’t want A-Huai to notice. Suppressing the bitterness in his heart, he bent down to retrieve the pastry. His eyes clouded with a thin mist, and through his carelessness, he was slashed by a jagged piece of a broken bronze mirror. Blood streamed out, pooling into a red stain on the floor.
In the end, Su Ce took A-Huai with him on a boat trip heading south.
However, a small incident occurred before departure.
Su Ce’s father, hearing of the trip, specifically came to say earnestly, “Su Ce, now that you are older, there is a matter in Suzhou you should handle on my behalf.”
Initially, Su Ce didn’t want to engage, but his father continued: “If you handle it well, I will agree to let you move out of the Su residence. How about that?”
Su Ce had long wanted to move out, but his father had always refused. This offer was the ultimate temptation.
He gave a noncommittal “Mhm” to show his agreement, then turned and shouted to A-Huai, “Let’s go, A-Huai!”
His father intercepted A-Huai before he boarded: “On this journey, be sure to take good care of the Young Master.”
A-Huai raised an eyebrow, cursed the “old fox” in his heart, and answered respectfully, “I will.”
Several days of sailing passed, and they were thousands of miles from the capital. The scenery on both banks shifted from bustling to desolate.
Su Ce placed his game piece on the board; the outcome was already clear at a glance.
He leaned back, somewhat dissatisfied. “Playing chess with a novice like you is boring. How is this any different from bullying a child?”
A-Huai smiled and flattered him: “My skills are poor, naturally no match for the Young Master. If you hadn’t yielded pieces multiple times, I wouldn’t have lasted three moves.”
A-Huai’s flattery sounded quite pleasant to Su Ce, but he coughed and said, “A-Huai, practice more and you will improve.”
A-Huai nodded, filled Su Ce’s tea, and asked, “Young Master, would you like to go ashore and walk around?”
Su Ce had indeed grown bored on the boat over the last few days.
Seeing that Su Ce remained silent, A-Huai added, “Judging by our speed, Jingzhou shouldn’t be far. If the Young Master feels tired, we can rest there for two days.”
Su Ce sipped his tea and whispered, “I’m not tired.” He paused to take another sip, then added, “But since we are already out, a day or two of delay won’t hurt.”
With Su Ce’s permission, A-Huai went to the bow to give instructions. When he returned to the cabin, Su Ce was already lying on the bed, legs crossed, reading a storybook.
Beside the chessboard of black and white stones sat a plate of freshly placed milk pastries.
“Young Master, these milk pastries…”
Su Ce didn’t even lift his eyes from the book. “A maid brought them just now. They are your reward; if you don’t want them, leave them there.”
A-Huai raised an eyebrow at Su Ce’s figure, secretly thinking that he really could lie without a flush or a racing heart.
Su Ce had never liked sweets, always complaining they were cloying.
But ever since they boarded the boat, the maid assigned to them brought different varieties of pastries every day. A-Huai hadn’t thought much of it at first, but after several days, he realized something was off. After speaking with the kitchen staff, he learned that it was Su Ce who had specifically ordered them. If he wanted them stopped, Su Ce himself would have to be the one to speak.
A-Huai examined the beautifully arranged milk pastries. As a child, he had hated these choking sweets.
But one day, he met someone who said to him: If life feels too painful, eat these; at least you’ll be sweet for a while, and you’ll briefly forget the pain!
He reached out and picked up the top piece, breaking off a small corner to put in his mouth.
So, memories really could carry a taste.
When Su Ce turned his back on him on the bed, A-Huai shoved the last of the pastry into his mouth. He looked back at the chessboard, reached out, and shifted one black stone, changing the situation so that the game would have been decided even before Su Ce’s last move.
Seeing the silence in the room, Su Ce seemed a bit unaccustomed to it. Just as he turned to look at A-Huai, A-Huai walked over with the milk pastries: “Young Master, won’t you really try one? It’s not sweet, really!”
Su Ce examined him for a moment, half-believing. “Really?”
A-Huai nodded eagerly with a radiant smile and held the piece he had just broken off to Su Ce’s lips.
After much hesitation, Su Ce opened his mouth and took a small bite.
The moment his lips brushed A-Huai’s fingertips, A-Huai’s finger twitched imperceptibly, his eyes lowering to hide the panic and yearning within.
The pastry melted in his mouth, the milky fragrance blooming on Su Ce’s tongue accompanied by the light sweetness of honey.
The pastry didn’t seem sweet, but it felt as if something else had been mixed in—something that made it cloyingly sweet until his teeth ached.
“Is it good?” A-Huai asked, his face full of smiles as he probed.
“It’s just average.” Su Ce wiped his hands, then suddenly remembered something and looked up: “Did you wash your hands?”