Aisley had fought for so many years, and he had suffered wounds even more severe than this. Sometimes he had been unconscious for seven or eight days straight, but he had endured all of that.
It was only that, unlike before, this time there was a child in his tent.
The sky outside had already brightened.
Aisley had had attendants before, but he had never had someone who truly stayed by his side. Aside from the days he had been unconscious, the guards would otherwise handle everything for him.
But this time was different. Aisley lay on his side, watching the child not far away whose face was clouded with worry, and he felt a strange yet novel sensation in his heart.
There was one thing the child had said that had left a deep impression on him. “Here, I only know you. You’re the person I’m most familiar with…” Aisley rubbed his chin with his index finger, unable to help smiling.
Since the child was willing to stay by his side, Aisley couldn’t very well let the child go hungry. He lay on the bed, his breath insufficient and his face pale, and had the guards bring some food.
The guard came in carrying a tray, on which were placed a few pieces of soft bread with jam, a pot of freshly simmered meat broth, a cup of milk, and a few good-sized pieces of fruit. Perhaps because of Aisley’s injury, this meal was, relatively speaking, unusually lavish.
Xingyuan wasn’t actually that hungry. He looked at Aisley with pleading eyes, and there was still an unerasable trace of worry in them. Aisley very much wanted to touch his head, but he still held back.
Xingyuan sat there looking back and forth, his originally oval deer-like eyes pressed into half-circles. He hesitated for a moment, and in the end still pulled over a low stool and sat down in front of the food, which was also beside Aisley’s bed.
Xingyuan slowly drew out a set of tableware for himself, then gently picked up a piece of bread dipped in jam. His fair arm moved very slowly, and a look of guilt surfaced in Xingyuan’s eyes. This person was already injured, and yet he was eating the person’s nutritious meal.
The young master was still just as thin, but his appetite was still just as large. He finished the bread and still wasn’t full.
Xingyuan: …
He felt guilty again for a moment, then once more reached his hand toward the fruit.
Xingyuan had never seen this kind of fruit before. It had a thick green outer shell, far harder than a walnut, several times over. Xingyuan picked up the fruit and examined it. When he discovered there was a thin seam in the middle of the shell, he also noticed at the same time a tool for opening the fruit on the tray.
Xingyuan squinted his right eye, peering into the seam, while picking up the tool and figuring out how to open the fruit.
Xingyuan had always been clever, and just from looking at it once, he already had a sense of how to do it. But though his posture was correct, his strength fell a little short. Xingyuan strained for a good while, but the fruit still wouldn’t open. His face flushed red from the effort.
It wasn’t that Xingyuan lacked strength — it was that this kind of fruit was simply too hard. Even an adult man used to rough labor might not necessarily be able to open it. But it was precisely because of this that such a delicious fruit could be preserved, for people like them to taste.
Since the guard dared to bring these fruits to the table, he naturally had confidence that Aisley would be able to open them.
Aisley watched Xingyuan’s persistent little expression, hiding his smile beneath his expression. He coughed a couple of times and, with effort, stretched out his arm to take a fruit. Because the movement was too large, his wound was pulled, and Aisley frowned, his face turning slightly pale, but he didn’t make a sound. Originally, the guard should have been responsible for feeding him, but he had told the guard to go out first.
Xingyuan’s gaze was drawn to Aisley, and he leaned in closer. He watched as Aisley placed the fruit in his palm, crossed his fingertips, and with what seemed like a light squeeze of both hands, the shell shattered at once. Inside, crystal-like, wobbling flesh was revealed.
A rich fruity fragrance wafted over. Xingyuan had never smelled such a sweet and fragrant fruit before. Xingyuan pressed his lips together. He turned his head to look at the remaining unopened fruits, and seeing the hard shells displayed before him, he still turned his head back.
He paused, then carefully reached out and took the piece of fruit flesh from Aisley’s hand, sighing repeatedly under his breath. He really had become a freeloader.
The flesh wasn’t just fragrant to smell — it was even more of a delicacy once tasted. A marvelous, natural juice burst open in his mouth, and Xingyuan’s taste buds were enveloped by it; even his eyes involuntarily narrowed. His deep blue eyes held a trace of intoxication. Xingyuan swallowed his saliva, staring longingly at the remaining fruit.
Unfortunately, replication could only be done once. Just as Xingyuan was staring longingly at the fruit, Aisley took out another one and peeled it open, and the rich fruity fragrance drifted out again. Xingyuan’s eyes curved into crescents.
At this, Xingyuan moved his little stool even closer to Aisley, staring eagerly at Aisley’s palm. Every time Aisley cracked open a fruit, Xingyuan would take it from his palm and quickly eat it. At first the young master had still felt somewhat embarrassed, but after a number of times, that little paw became more and more practiced.
Aisley’s strength was a mystery. The fruit shell that Xingyuan couldn’t open with a tool despite straining hard, Aisley pinched open bare-handed. Judging by his expression, it seemed to take no effort at all.
Xingyuan smacked his lips, looking at Aisley’s exposed muscles, his gaze never once ceasing to be envious.
The fruit was eaten up completely clean, and the young master was very satisfied. With his hearty appetite, he even drank a few mouthfuls of the meat broth and a cup of milk.
Aisley: …
This person Hua probably had forgotten how awkward his mood had been before eating, and now he had been served so comfortably by an injured patient that he practically wanted to rub his belly and lie down.
Aisley’s eyes held a smile, and he didn’t feel there was anything wrong with it at all. A child, after all — being young, this was nothing more than perfectly normal.
Even though Xingyuan believed Aisley didn’t know of his existence, this couldn’t stop his fondness for Aisley from growing. Even though the meal was something he had mooched on his own initiative, Aisley was “unaware” of it.
Seeing that Aisley had suffered such a severe injury, Xingyuan’s eyes never once returned to their round shape. He pressed down his eyelids and sighed several times, and without even sleeping, sat there by the bedside keeping watch like this. At first he simply let his mind wander over things, and when he grew somewhat bored, he took out his textbook and lay on the bed to read it.
Perhaps because there was a large tree outside, the tent wasn’t very bright. Aisley moved his gaze to Xingyuan’s upturned eyelashes. The dark lashes set against his fair, delicate cheeks — the youth was always this good-looking and well-behaved.
Sometimes Xingyuan yawned, propping both arms on the blanket and rubbing his face. Sometimes, when he grew tired of looking, he lay on his side at the edge of the bed and stretched lazily. His deep blue eyes remained bright the whole time.
Aisley suddenly recalled how, in his childhood, he and his parents had worked at a certain duke’s manor. Back then, he had hung suspended in midair wiping the attic windows, and through the glass, he had seen the duke’s family’s young master lying on a table reading a book. That young master had also been good-looking, but he simply didn’t like reading. As long as he could avoid reading, the young master would do anything. He rolled around, acted spoiled, petted birds and teased fish, always looking for a way to slip out of it.
Aisley recalled his feelings at the time; he remembered feeling a bit of secret delight. Since childhood he had always yearned to read, but books were something only the nobility could access, and he had envied those who could read. So, when he saw that noble and distinguished young master avoiding his reading, he had felt much better inside. He had even regarded it as a kind of different form of fairness.
As the memory faded, his pupils were filled with the image of that youth’s figure rolling about back then. The book had been pressed beneath him, while this youth’s deep blue eyes blinked, their light dimmed by far too much in comparison.
Aisley pressed his lips together and fell silent. That young master back then had been noble and good-looking, yet there was still a world of difference between him and the youth in front of him now. Never mind the duke’s young master — even the little prince of His Majesty’s household couldn’t compare to… his youth.
Yes, his. In this whole world, he was the only person who could see this envoy of the divine. His youth’s appearance was like fine jade, flawless, beyond reproach, something no human youth could ever match.
Seeing the youth reading, Aisley made an effort to shift further into the bed, trying to make as much room as possible for the youth to read. Xingyuan felt somewhat weary. He flipped through the book a bit, not really wanting to keep reading right now. Aisley’s eyes flickered; he wanted to touch the youth’s head to comfort him, but he still didn’t extend his hand.
Worried that the youth would stop reading, he had someone bring more fruit. He peeled them one by one and placed them on a small plate. Xingyuan’s eyes lit up. He ate while reading, and indeed it wasn’t so tedious anymore.
Aisley lowered his eyes and smiled faintly. If the weather hadn’t been so hot, he would even have wanted to help fan him. No matter what, reading mustn’t be delayed.
Aisley watched Xingyuan’s absorbed, relishing expression, and he found himself thinking. Having been together this long, he already knew that Xingyuan had more talent than him when it came to reading. He even had a premonition that even up in the heavens, there probably weren’t many envoys with as much talent as his youth.
Aisley tugged at the corner of his mouth and smiled.
Xingyuan’s time was rather limited; he couldn’t keep resting like this forever. Once the sunlight wasn’t so glaring anymore, Xingyuan left the tent, preparing to train together with the army.
The inside of the tent suddenly grew much emptier. Aisley raised an eyebrow, not really feeling anything about it, even feeling that this was only natural. However, in less than an hour, the youth came rushing back in a hurry.
There was a cut of six or seven centimeters on Xingyuan’s forearm, the wound about half a centimeter deep. Blood gushed out from it, and the wound looked quite gruesome.
Just now, the soldiers at the training grounds had been practicing with swords, and seeing this, Xingyuan had wanted to practice too. But he had, after all, grown up being pampered and raised — aside from things like knives and forks, he had basically never touched anything of that sort. In a moment of carelessness, he had cut himself.
Such a long wound made Xingyuan’s heart pound wildly. Nowadays, interstellar medical technology was advanced; for a surface wound like this, all it would take was a single spray to heal completely within half an hour, without leaving a single scar. Because of this, interstellar citizens had long since stopped taking this kind of injury to heart.
However, here was “not” the interstellar era — there was no spray at all here. Xingyuan could only face this sudden trauma on his own. There was no wound-healing medicine at all in Xingyuan’s backpack, because he understood that the injuries suffered here were all simulated, and would not have any effect on his real life. Thinking of this, Xingyuan suddenly had a moment of enlightenment, and he gradually calmed down.
Ever since Xingyuan was little, whenever he’d been injured, the wound would never last more than a minute, and he had rarely even experienced pain. Because of this, he was also much more sensitive to pain than an ordinary person when facing it.
Xingyuan’s arm trembled. He gritted his teeth, cold sweat pouring down, his face pale. He could have reloaded a save and let the wound heal, but watching the blood flowing out, he suddenly felt that the act of reloading a save was somewhat laughable.
He was someone who wanted to test into a military academy — how could he not even endure a bit of pain, and still want to escape from it? He was even afraid of blood.
Xingyuan blinked, and something in his mind clicked open; his whole being suddenly became clear-headed. He suddenly remembered something his father had once said. “Unless it will affect the trajectory of your life, any setback can be regarded as a form of growth.”
Xingyuan decided that from now on, unless he died, he would not reload a save.