Chapter 30: Xingzhi Temple (20)
Xiao Zhaoling was drunk—and clingy.
Although Lin Zikui felt it was inappropriate, he really liked the scent of Zhao Ling’s body, and he liked being held. For someone like him, who never burned incense and only kept ink and paper as company, Xiao Zhaoling’s scent was overwhelmingly pleasant.
It even made him secretly lean in and sniff a few times.
Xiao Fu noticed he had gone still—realized he was nuzzling into his neck, quietly sniffing—and leaned on one elbow on the couch, resting his cheek in his palm as he looked down at him. His expression was amused, and his heart softened.
He murmured in a sticky, clingy tone, “Lin Lang, I want to marry you tonight.”
“Ah?” Lin Zikui gasped and instinctively shook his head. “Absolutely not, Zhao Ling. For a proper marriage, one must send a formal proposal, choose an auspicious date in advance, and go through proper rituals.”
Xiao Zhaoling was clearly the impatient sort. He clung to him tightly. “I can skip all three steps.”
“I… can’t,” Lin Zikui insisted stubbornly. Flushed and dizzy from being wrapped in his long arms, he still remembered the words of the sages. “I mustn’t treat you so lightly. If your family found out, they’d think… I’m not a gentleman.”
“They won’t know. And anyway, I’m not a w— I mean, I can’t bear children, my belly won’t grow. Let’s just do the rites here once, and then again at home. Lin Lang, would you agree?”
Right now, he was at the very edge of wanting him badly, but didn’t want to scare him. Xiao Fu, who usually never thought twice before acting, was now showing remarkable restraint.
Sure enough, Lin Zikui stammered and flinched from his boldness. In a low voice, he muttered, “To lust is to be obscene; obscenity deserves great punishment. The three human desires are food, sleep, and lust. Of the three, food is the root—if you eat too much, you’ll fall asleep, and when you’re full, desire stirs. Miss Zhao Ling, are you… still hungry?”
Indeed, once people’s basic needs were met, desires would follow.
Xiao Fu couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you quoting classics at me now? Are you a monk, lecturing me about the three desires? You should know I’m different from others. Right now, I only have two desires: one is sleep, the other is you.” He stared at him through the flickering candlelight. “So tell me—what should I eat?”
Lin Zikui couldn’t help wiping his sweat. His heart was pounding, but he remained rational. “…I quoted the classics because Brother Chen said you fall asleep whenever someone reads to you. Shall I recite Tengwang Pavilion Preface for you?”
Xiao Fu: “…No.”
Lin Zikui began anyway: “Yuzhang, an ancient commandery; Hongdu, a newly established prefecture. Stars divided into Yi and Zhen…”
Xiao Fu’s eyes widened. “You’re seriously doing it?”
“Mhm. Go on, sleep now, Second Young Miss. Once you’re asleep, I’ll rest too. Rich treasures of the land, radiant dragon aura…” He kept reciting.
Xiao Fu closed his eyes and gave a helpless, hoarse laugh. “And what do you gain by coaxing me to sleep? You’re blind—you can’t see. Where are you going to sleep? If I sleep on the couch, are you going to take my bed?”
Lin Zikui softly said, “No need to worry about me, Second Young Miss. I remember there’s a luohan couch beside the desk near the window. At night, I should be able to hear the wind rustling the banana leaves and snow falling on the eaves. I’ll sleep there.”
“You’re truly something else, the model of virtue, resisting temptation, and even insisting on hearing snow fall on banana leaves. What’s next? You’ll get up and write a poem?”
Lin Zikui earnestly replied, “If Zhao Ling would like me to compose one, I can. Would you prefer a seven-character verse or a five-character one?”
“…”
Xiao Fu gave up.
He half-opened his eyes. “Lin Lang, the weather is so cold. What if you accidentally kick the charcoal brazier and set the room on fire?”
“Uh…”
Lin Zikui was stumped.
It wasn’t impossible. He had experience being blindfolded—without Mo Liu or a bamboo cane, he really was useless.
Lin Zikui ran out of ideas. “I’ll… go call for Mo Liu.”
“Don’t go, don’t go,” Xiao Fu said, pulling open Lin Zikui’s waistband with one hand. He kicked off his own boots, then stood up to take off Lin Zikui’s shoes as well. Lifting the brocade quilt at the foot of the bed, he covered him with it and pressed him back down as he tried to get up. Then he removed his wooden hairpin and said, “You’re not going anywhere.”
Xiao Fu pressed down the center of the quilt slightly to keep Lin Zikui from noticing anything odd about his dagger. After that, he lay down, resting his head on his shoulder. With a flick of his fingers, he sent out a burst of internal energy that extinguished the candle flame. In a drowsy voice, he said, “I’m tired. Let’s just sleep like this.”
“Second Young Miss…?” Lin Zikui stiffened completely, not daring to move.
“Zhao Ling…” he murmured, very softly, with a note of tenderness and caution.
But Xiao Fu didn’t reply.
He was either genuinely asleep, or pretending to be—either way, he knew Lin Zikui wouldn’t deliberately wake him.
After a while, Lin Zikui realized he definitely wouldn’t be able to leave tonight. Still, he felt relatively calm. There was no impure desire within him—only the pounding of his heart, which gradually settled as he listened to Xiao Zhaoling’s steady breathing.
He allowed himself to relax a little, draped one arm over Xiao Fu, and lightly patted his back twice.
Very lightly.
As if coaxing a child to sleep.
Had Xiao Fu not deliberately restrained herself, he might have cried out in that moment.
But he didn’t move either. He stayed perfectly still.
Because of the way he curled up beside him, Lin Zikui’s face ended up pressed into his hair. He must’ve been truly tired too, because lying on his side like that, his face buried in his hair, he eventually drifted off to sleep.
Xiao Fu opened his eyes and slightly bent his leg in the darkness.
He was afraid of waking him. After all, it might be too much for him to handle in one night—discovering that the gentle lady beside him was in fact not a woman. So he endured it, did nothing, and simply pressed his face into the curve of his neck, breathing quietly.
Lin Zikui was a disciplined sleeper. He was used to late nights and early mornings—ever since childhood, he’d only slept two or three hours a night in order to study. Usually, Mo Liu would get up a little after him. Lin Zikui would wash up briefly, then the two of them would eat a hot steamed bun together for breakfast.
So, before dawn, Lin Zikui naturally woke up—he couldn’t help it.
But when he realized he was lying in Xiao Zhaoling’s bed, in a rather improper position no less, and recalled the events of the night before, he didn’t dare move.
He tried to wriggle free, but couldn’t. Left with no choice, he settled back down in the same position for a second round of sleep.
In the hazy state between waking and dreaming, he caught a whiff of something. The smell wasn’t overwhelming, but in a closed winter room, it was noticeable.
Lin Zikui quickly reacted. Could it be… had he dreamed something inappropriate? In the dream, had he…
He jumped in fright, instantly wide awake.
He didn’t dare check but felt it likely wasn’t him—his undergarments didn’t feel sticky or uncomfortable.
Then where had the scent come from? He cautiously turned his head and sniffed—he smelled Xiao Fu. He had a bit of the scent too, but mostly still smelled nice.
Eventually, he concluded the real culprits were probably the Chen brothers… Maybe the wind had blown the door open last night, letting the scent in. Then someone closed it, trapping the smell inside.
Ah! What an insult to propriety.
Lin Zikui couldn’t fall back asleep. His mind kept cycling through speculative deductions like a detective, never once suspecting that it was actually Xiao Fu who’d had a vivid, unrestrained dream. In the dream, Lin Zikui had been blindfolded, with his face and voice clearly present—so vivid that Xiao Fu was still dreaming even now, never waking once during the night.
The Chen brothers, on the other hand, had indeed woken up. Despite being heavy drinkers, they noticed the marquis’s door had blown open in the middle of the night. When they peeked in, they found him sleeping on top of the scholar, wrapped in a brocade blanket.
Yuanqing shook his head and kindly closed the door. Then he carried Mo Liu back to the Hall of Purifying the Heart.
Xiao Zhaoling woke up earlier than usual that morning—probably because someone was lying beside him. The moment he stirred, Lin Zikui, as if freed from a great burden, also rose, “Miss Zhao Ling, you’re awake?”
“Mm…”
Lin Zikui let out a breath of relief. “I was worried I might’ve woken you. Good—you’re up. You drank quite a lot last night. I’ll ask Mo Liu to boil some goji berries for you.” He promptly got out of bed and bent down to look for his shoes.
He found two pairs, but since his shoes were different from Zhao Ling’s, he quickly picked out his own.
Lin Zikui put his shoes on, then stood up holding Xiao Zhaoling’s boots. “Zhao Ling, your shoes are here.”
“You’re putting them on for me?” Xiao Fu sat on the edge of the bed.
Lin Zikui hesitated, unsure if it was appropriate—but ultimately compromised and knelt down. “Alright.”
He squatted in front of Xiao Fu, reaching along the floor to find his feet by touch.
Xiao Fu wasn’t wearing brocade socks. Fearing Lin Zikui might not be able to find them, he deliberately lifted his foot and nudged it toward his crouched lap.
It was the first day of the new year, and sunlight poured brightly through the lattice windows.
With his head lowered, Lin Zikui bit his lip and said nothing as he slipped on the socks and shoes for him. His fingers trembled slightly.
He was meticulous, dressing one foot and then the other. He was nearly kneeling on the ground, relying entirely on touch since he couldn’t see.
Xiao Fu hadn’t done it on purpose—he simply liked the way Lin Zikui’s ears flushed red.
“All done…” Lin Zikui said from his crouched position, not getting up. “Could you stand up and check?”
“It’s done. Lin Lang, your hands are skilled—you did it quickly. Next time, do it a little slower,” Xiao Fu replied, standing up first. Once Lin Zikui noticed his move, he also got up, head lowered, mumbling, “Then I’ll go call Mo Liu. He’s probably still lying asleep.” As he spoke, he turned and called out, “Mo Liu, Mo Liu…”
Xiao Fu shook his head and grabbed his palm. “Your clothes aren’t even on properly—what are you rushing out for?”
Lin Zikui suddenly realized it too. One hand quickly gathered his open outer robe, flustered and apologetic. “M-my sash… Miss Zhao Ling, I’m sorry, I’ve been rude…”
“It’s here with me.” Xiao Fu picked up the sash from the bed, fixed his collar, slipped hia arm behind his waist, and fastened the sash around him. Then he draped over him the new fur-lined robe his mother had given him last time.
It had a white fox-fur collar, red lake silk embroidered with golden river cliffs, and a warm wolf-fur lining.
Only a favored young prince from the palace could wear such luxury. Xiao Fu had it tailored smaller especially for him, and now it fit him perfectly.
Once it was on, Lin Zikui touched his sleeve and felt the new embroidery. “Miss Zhao Ling… this is new?”
“Yes, made just for you. For the New Year. Red suits Lin Lang well,” he said. It almost looked like wedding attire.
“Made just for me…” Lin Zikui couldn’t see, but he could tell it fit.
It really was a new garment, custom-made for him.
The fluffy fox fur brushed against his chin.
“Actually… I don’t need clothes this fine. It’s enough if you dress beautifully,” he murmured.
Lin Zikui didn’t know how to express his gratitude. He felt he didn’t deserve it, and he felt useless.
Over the years, only Tang Mengyang and Xiao Zhaoling had given him clothes, worried he’d get cold.
That brother Tang…
Had once treated him kindly, yet in the end, it had all turned out like that. Besides, Zhaoling had said Brother Tang was a cut sleeve.
Best not to think about it anymore.
“I’m dressed well enough already. Lin Lang should look just as nice.” Xiao Fu had prepared more outfits for him too, intending to have him change into a different color each day, just for him.
“Thank you, Zhao Ling, I…” Lin Zikui hesitated, troubled, his fingers in his sleeve unconsciously scratching his palm.
“The Spring Examinations… they’re almost here,” Lin Zikui said aloud. “One of my eyes still works, right? I want to try taking the exam again. The Xu faction might not let me off, but if I’m careful and make it into the examination compound… they can’t really do anything to me.”
Yesterday, Prime Minister Xue had said something: “What’s the difference between danger and safety, like drifting clouds in the vast sky? None of it clings to the heart.” It had struck Lin Zikui like a sudden revelation. He thought, if he really went back to Fengtai County to become a mere schoolteacher, he couldn’t provide for Xiao Zhaoling.
He needed to wear fine fabrics, use the best coal, ride in good carriages—things he couldn’t give him. If he were just a schoolteacher, would he grow tired of him one day? Would he, with no child tying him down, one day stop liking him… and leave?
He’d been thinking about that last night when he couldn’t sleep.
He wanted to bring Xiao Zhaoling home and treasure him like gold and jade for the rest of hia life—not marry him only to make him suffer along with him.
Author’s Note:
Zikui: Brother Tang was a cut sleeve.
Xiao: So am I ;)
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