Zhao Baozhu had heard of temple fairs and seen them in illustrated storybooks. He knew that in prosperous regions like Suzhou, Hangzhou, and the capital, during certain special seasons, lanterns would be hung everywhere, and many stalls would be set up selling goods from all over, very lively and fun.
Zhao Baozhu felt tempted, shamefully so. He had never experienced a temple fair before.
But with the spring examination approaching, he still hesitated a little.
After dinner, as the sky gradually darkened, Deng Yun, Steward Li, and the Fang brothers gathered around Ye Jinghua at the entrance of the residence, creating a lively scene. By contrast, Zhao Baozhu, standing alone under the corridor, seemed somewhat lonely.
Holding a book in one hand, Zhao Baozhu stood awkwardly by a pillar, sneaking glances toward the gate from time to time.
After helping Ye Jinghua tidy his clothes, Deng Yun looked up and saw Zhao Baozhu still standing there. He burst out laughing angrily. “Baozhu! Why aren’t you getting over here already?”
Zhao Baozhu shot him an annoyed glare, but with Ye Jinghua watching, he didn’t dare act up and muttered, “I need to study.”
Deng Yun raised his thick brows high and was about to go over and grab him, but Fang Qin stopped him and gestured with his eyes to the side. Deng Yun looked up and saw Ye Jinghua glancing sideways at Zhao Baozhu, a faint smile on his face.
Zhao Baozhu also noticed Ye Jinghua looking at him. His face reddened, and he lowered his head to look at the book in his hands, if Ye Jinghua insisted he go…
But the next moment, Ye Jinghua’s voice came from afar: “If he doesn’t want to go, then forget it.”
Turning his face away, Ye Jinghua walked toward the gate. “Let’s go.”
Zhao Baozhu lifted his head in disbelief. Seeing that they were really about to leave him behind to go to the temple fair, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Hey, wait!” He hurried after them. “I want to go too.”
The Fang brothers exchanged a glance, amused. Deng Yun snorted with laughter. Zhao Baozhu grabbed Ye Jinghua’s sleeve; Ye Jinghua slowly turned his head, a smile in his starry eyes, and lifted an arm to drape it over Zhao Baozhu’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Only then did Zhao Baozhu realize he’d been tricked again. Being toyed with by Ye Jinghua daily, he was already used to it. By the time he was bundled into the carriage, he muttered softly, “What about my book?”
He had rushed out in a hurry and was still holding it. Ye Jinghua glanced down, took it from him, and reached to a spot inside the carriage. With a crisp “click,” a hidden compartment appeared.
Zhao Baozhu stared wide-eyed as Ye Jinghua placed his shabby book inside. He couldn’t help but look around in amazement, just how many hidden mechanisms were there in this carriage?
“Put it here, no one will take it,” Ye Jinghua said quietly. He knew how important those nearly falling-apart old books were to Zhao Baozhu. After all, he had given him many new books, yet Zhao Baozhu still always read the old ones.
After the compartment closed, Zhao Baozhu couldn’t help reaching out to feel for it again, but found nothing.
The carriage soon left the alley, and a wave of noisy voices flooded in. Zhao Baozhu couldn’t resist lifting the curtain and looking outside, and was immediately stunned by the crowds filling the streets.
There were several times more people than usual, packed so tightly there was hardly any space between them. Men, women, old and young all came out together. On both sides of the street, lanterns were being lowered from the upper floors of restaurants, strings of bright red lanterns dropped from rooftops, bouncing slightly in the air, drawing exclamations of awe. Zhao Baozhu gaped at the beautiful singing girls who seemed about to leap down from the buildings, and at the acrobats in the crowd wearing golden rings and flipping continuously, his eyes didn’t know where to look.
Just then, something suddenly appeared at the edge of his vision. Startled, he turned his head, and saw a massive golden dragon head slowly emerging by the edge of the carriage window. Its eyes were fierce, its whiskers flaring wildly, each as long as a man’s arm.
“Ah!”
Zhao Baozhu slammed the curtain shut and leaned back in fright.
A pair of hands grasped his shoulders. Zhao Baozhu felt himself pressed against a warm chest as Ye Jinghua’s laughter came from behind. “Don’t be afraid, that’s a parade float.”
“A float?” Still shaken, Zhao Baozhu was half-guided off the carriage by Ye Jinghua. Looking closely, he saw that the lifelike dragon head was made of brilliant golden paper, mounted on a wooden frame with rolling wheels beneath, pushed forward by several strong men.
…So it really was a cart. Zhao Baozhu let out a breath of relief. But even so, there were just too many people. He had never seen such crowds before, like a sea of people, so dense he could barely see the road. Looking at the mass of people like locusts, Zhao Baozhu felt uneasy, wondering how many acres of fields and how many chickens and ducks it would take each year to feed such a city.
Deng Yun walked beside him, glancing sideways and snorting. “What’s wrong? The moment you leave the residence, you wilt?”
Faced with such a grand scene, Zhao Baozhu once again became a timid country bumpkin. Seeing him sticking close behind Ye Jinghua like a little tail, Deng Yun mocked him. “At home you shout with hands on your hips, why so cowardly now?”
Zhao Baozhu glared fiercely at him. Deng Yun raised his brows sharply and made a move to grab him. Ye Jinghua stepped sideways, blocking between them, and took out some silver from his pouch, handing it to Deng Yun. “Go amuse yourself.”
Deng Yun weighed the silver in his hand, giving Ye Jinghua a somewhat aggrieved look. “Young master only knows how to protect him.”
Ye Jinghua didn’t bother with him, turning to give some silver to each of the Fang brothers as well, sending them off to wander the fair. This seemed to be a long-standing habit in the Ye residence; they all handled it smoothly, taking the money and going their separate ways. Zhao Baozhu watched longingly. Normally he disliked taking Ye Jinghua’s money, but seeing everyone else receive some, he couldn’t help asking enviously, “Young master, why don’t I get any?”
Ye Jinghua turned back and brushed the back of his hand against Zhao Baozhu’s cheek, the jade ring on his thumb lightly sliding along his jaw. “Stay with me. Whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you.”
They stood before a brightly lit restaurant. Backlit, with a faint smile on his lips and light reflected in his eyes like stars, Ye Jinghua seemed almost luminous.
Zhao Baozhu’s breath hitched abruptly, nearly failing to come through, his cheeks flushing bright red.
“Let’s go.” Ye Jinghua had already turned away, his hand reaching back to lightly grasp a couple of inches of Zhao Baozhu’s fingers, signaling him to follow. Zhao Baozhu only paused for a moment before quickly stepping after him, he was afraid that if he lagged even a little, he’d be crushed by the locust-like crowd. Staying close at Ye Jinghua’s side, he lowered his head as he walked, touching his chest. He didn’t know what sudden ailment had struck him just now, his chest hurt, and he couldn’t catch his breath. It must be because all these people in the capital had used up the air.
“Baozhu.”
Ye Jinghua’s voice sounded above his head. Zhao Baozhu looked up and saw two small figures cut from red paper before his eyes.
They were paper figures styled like characters from opera, exquisitely detailed, wearing armor with little flags stuck behind them, looking very imposing. Zhao Baozhu’s eyes lit up, and he let out an involuntary “wow.”
“So beautiful.”
He took the paper figures, turning them over and over with delight. Looking down at him, Ye Jinghua curled his lips slightly and asked gently, “Do you like them?”
Zhao Baozhu immediately forgot his earlier discomfort, carefully touching the hollow-cut details with his fingers. “I like them.”
Watching him, a subtle glimmer passed through Ye Jinghua’s eyes, and he lowered his voice as if coaxing, “Since you like them, what should you say to me?”
Hearing this, Zhao Baozhu looked up in slight confusion, then upon meeting Ye Jinghua’s gaze, suddenly understood and smiled. “Baozhu thanks the young master.” He even bowed exaggeratedly. “Many thanks for the reward, young master.”
Ye Jinghua’s smile deepened. He reached out to pull him up. “Enough nonsense.” Zhao Baozhu lifted his head with a bright smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Young master treats me so well.”
Ye Jinghua paused slightly. Then a warmth seemed to rise in his heart, flowing through his limbs, making his little finger curl slightly.
Zhao Baozhu didn’t notice and lowered his head again to play with the paper figures. Watching the strands of hair fall against his flushed cheeks, Ye Jinghua felt that warmth tinged with something deeper.
Two paper figures were enough to make him this happy. Countless times, Ye Jinghua had been grateful that he had picked up this little beggar and brought him into the residence that day. If Baozhu had been left outside…
The smile at Ye Jinghua’s lips faded slightly, his gaze deepening.
After a moment, Ye Jinghua reached out and gently tucked the hair at Zhao Baozhu’s temples behind his ear. “Let’s go, there’s much more ahead.”
And so Ye Jinghua and Zhao Baozhu walked along the street together. The capital was packed with people today, vendors from all over arriving in droves. Because of the crowds, it actually made it easier for Ye Jinghua to blend into them, no longer standing out as he usually did. Ladies and young wives who noticed this exceptionally handsome young man often only managed a single glance before being swept away by the flow of people.
All along the way, Ye Jinghua kept buying as they strolled. The side pouches on both sides of Zhao Baozhu were stuffed full, and even his cheeks were puffed out. In his left hand he held a small box of ludagun coated in soybean powder; in his right hand, a sticky candied hawthorn skewer. Seeing how happily he was eating, Ye Jinghua kept buying more and more. Zhao Baozhu accepted everything without refusal, whatever Ye Jinghua handed him, he ate. In the end, it was Ye Jinghua himself who realized he had bought too much. Turning back to look at Zhao Baozhu: “You–”
Ye Jinghua watched as Zhao Baozhu chewed and swallowed the last candied hawthorn, then licked the remaining sugar clean from his fingers. His cheeks were flushed red. Lowering his eyes, he smiled slightly. “Finished it all?”
Zhao Baozhu lowered his hands and proudly puffed out his chest. “All finished.” Though he was small in stature, his appetite was not. Back in the village, he had been one of the best eaters. His father was famously hardworking, and most of what he grew ended up in Zhao Baozhu’s stomach.
Seeing his proud expression, Ye Jinghua’s smile deepened. Lowering his gaze to Zhao Baozhu’s belly, he asked, “Are you full? You’ve eaten so much.”
Hearing this, Zhao Baozhu felt a bit embarrassed and drew in his little belly, only then remembering he was in the capital, not back home. He said softly, “Young master… did I eat too much?”
Hearing this, Ye Jinghua’s brow twitched slightly, and he immediately said, “No.” After a pause, he added, “What else do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it.”
Zhao Baozhu looked up at him, saw the curve of his lips, and his two small dimples appeared again. “I’m full!”
***
Ye Jinghua and Zhao Baozhu walked from one end of the street to the other. At the end of the crowd, they arrived at a dock connected to the river. As in previous years, the emperor had specially decreed that the Xijingkou docks be opened, allowing common people to board the painted pleasure boats that were usually reserved only for the imperial clan. Many people crowded at the bridgehead, watching a boat packed full of passengers slowly depart from the dock. Zhao Baozhu widened his eyes, staring at an old woman holding her plump little grandson at the bow, worried they might be squeezed off by the crowd.
“What are you looking at?” Ye Jinghua’s voice sounded beside him. Zhao Baozhu looked up and saw him leaning slightly against the bridge railing, glancing down. “If you want to ride, I can bring you another day. There are too many people today.”
Zhao Baozhu shook his head. “I won’t ride. I can’t swim.”
If this landlubber got on a boat and it capsized, he’d be done for.
Zhao Baozhu turned his head, looked around, and suddenly his eyes lit up. Pointing not far away, he said, “Young master, let’s go play that.”
Where he pointed, there was a temporary stage set up, with fishing lines forming a net overhead, from which hung several hundred wooden tags of different styles. Participants had to compose a line of poetry beginning with the given character. After collecting ten, they could exchange them for a mask at the front. This game was designed for commoners, though a few of the characters were tricky, overall it was simply a poetry recitation game, easily manageable for Ye Jinghua and Zhao Baozhu.
Common characters like “wind,” “flower,” “snow,” and “moon” had many people gathered beneath them. Ye Jinghua and Zhao Baozhu deliberately went to less crowded spots, choosing the tags no one else wanted.
Zhao Baozhu reached out and flipped over a wooden tag. It had the character “Yi” written on it. He frowned, unable to recall a poem starting with that character. Turning his head, he saw that Ye Jinghua had already finished writing. Zhao Baozhu leaned over to look and suddenly understood. “Ah, there’s that line.”
Ye Jinghua finished his final stroke and turned his head, smiling at him.
Night had deepened. The red glow of lanterns cast warm light across Ye Jinghua’s face, warmth flowing from his star-like eyes.
Dressed more casually for the outing, his collar was slightly open, a strand of black hair falling over his shoulder. As he turned his head slightly, he looked like a handsome scholar from storybooks, capable of stealing hearts with a single smile.
Zhao Baozhu froze for a moment, his cheeks gradually heating. If there had been a well-matched noble lady present, she might have been so stirred that she couldn’t even recite a poem.
Their corner was especially quiet. Ye Jinghua set down his brush and leaned close, whispering in Zhao Baozhu’s ear, “You handle the next one yourself, I won’t help you.”
Zhao Baozhu shuddered slightly and came back to his senses, nodding with a flushed face, silently praying the next character would be easy so he wouldn’t embarrass himself.
Sure enough, Ye Jinghua’s slender fingers flipped the next tag. On it was the character “Qing.”
Perfect!
Zhao Baozhu cheered inwardly. There were countless poems starting with “Qing”!
So he blurted out, “Your collar is green, my heart is yearning!”
The boy’s clear voice echoed into the night. Ye Jinghua heard every word, froze slightly, his long lashes trembling as he lowered his gaze toward Zhao Baozhu.
After speaking, Zhao Baozhu only realized a moment later what he had said.
“Your collar is green, my heart is yearning.” This line came from the Book of Songs, used to express admiration for a man. Over time, many interpretations had speculated it could imply affection between men.
Zhao Baozhu’s face visibly flushed inch by inch, his gaze falling on Ye Jinghua’s green robe.
On any other day it would have been fine, but today, Ye Jinghua happened to be wearing green. And he had recited that kind of poem.
Zhao Baozhu’s lashes fluttered wildly. Seeing the faint smile fade from Ye Jinghua’s face, and his amber eyes deepen as he lowered them, Zhao Baozhu thought he was angry. He immediately panicked: “I, I, young master, I didn’t mean it like that,” Zhao Baozhu stammered.
Ye Jinghua’s ears had also reddened slightly. Hearing this, he paused, then slowly lifted his head to look at Zhao Baozhu. “What do you mean?”
Zhao Baozhu instantly flushed even more, staring with wide, cat-like eyes, unable to say a word.
The night wind gently stirred the hanging tags above them. Some bumped together with soft clinking sounds. Nearby, a family of five stood beneath another tag, puzzling over a line starting with “snow.” A child’s murmured voice drifted over with the breeze, becoming the background to their silent gaze.
Zhao Baozhu’s heart pounded as if it might leap out, his face burning, his palms itching, wanting to cough.
Compared to his flustered state, Ye Jinghua remained calm. Standing still in the night breeze, a few strands of hair slipping loose from his hairpiece, his jade-like face lit by the glow of the boats, his gaze fixed on Zhao Baozhu.
The gaze was too long, too deep. Zhao Baozhu swallowed unconsciously, his lashes trembling, yet he didn’t dare look away first.
Like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck.
Through his uneven breathing, Zhao Baozhu saw Ye Jinghua’s eyes darken, his thin lips part slightly, as if about to speak.
Zhao Baozhu held his breath.
At that moment, a pleasure boat docked, and tourists happily crowded off from the stern, filling the dock with noise.
“Look, over there, they’re guessing poetry tags!”
Someone called out, and the crowd’s attention shifted to the poetry stall. A group began moving toward them.
Ye Jinghua closed his mouth, shifted his gaze, and glanced at the approaching crowd. Turning back, he smiled slightly at Zhao Baozhu. With that smile, the earlier tension in his expression faded, his features softening again.
“We’ve collected ten,” he said softly. “I’ll go exchange them for a mask.”
With that, Ye Jinghua picked up the sheets filled with poetry and turned to walk toward the stall.
Within moments, the crowd from the dock surged over, even filling the corner where Zhao Baozhu stood. As people pressed forward, Ye Jinghua’s green robe gradually disappeared from view.
Only after he had gone far and vanished into the crowd did Zhao Baozhu finally let out a deep breath, his tense shoulders relaxing.
What had the young master wanted to say just now?
As Zhao Baozhu thought, he raised a hand to touch his cheek and was startled by the heat. Even without a mirror, he knew his face must be flushed red like a monkey.
So embarrassing! Zhao Baozhu lowered his head and smacked his own face.
It was just one wrong line of poetry, what was there to make such a fuss about! But then he recalled Ye Jinghua’s expression and wondered if he had been angry. Thinking about it now, that line really shouldn’t have been directed at him. If the young master thought he meant something improper, that misunderstanding would be serious!
Zhao Baozhu bit his lip and looked up through the crowd, trying to spot Ye Jinghua, but with so many people and his shorter height, even standing on tiptoe he couldn’t see him.
“Juren Zhao?”
A slightly surprised voice sounded behind him.
Zhao Baozhu froze, then turned around to see a tall horse standing behind him. A man in armor sat atop it, holding a helmet, looking down at him.
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