The Daily Life of a Depressed Salted Fish Chapter 80

Yin Wuzhi’s warm breath caressed Jiang Wu’s fingers, gentle yet not overwhelming.

A sense of confusion rose in Jiang Wu’s heart.

“I’ve been lying here for so long. Who’s been handling the government affairs?”

“Empress Dowager Wen has been managing them in your absence.”

Yin Wuzhi spoke as he turned Jiang Wu’s hand over, his fingers tracing his palm. Jiang Wu’s hand was soft, and the sensation of being touched sent a strange tickle through him. Instinctively, he pulled his hand away. “Why were you so late in coming?”

Yin Wuzhi’s hand now empty, he asked, “Did Your Majesty miss me?”

Jiang Wu wasn’t sure.

But when he first realized he hadn’t died, lying in the vast imperial bed, he instinctively felt that Yin Wuzhi should have been by his side.

To his surprise, the first person to visit him had been Empress Dowager Wen.

“Yin Wuzhi.” He didn’t understand, so he asked, “Why weren’t you keeping watch over me?”

“It was my fault.”

“What were you busy with?”

“Just handling military matters.”

“I ordered someone to summon you. Why were you so late?”

Yin Wuzhi raised his face, and after a moment, smiled. “I was making peach soup for Your Majesty.”

Jiang Wu asked, “Where is it?”

Not long after he asked, there was a noise from behind, and Qi Hanmiao came in with a tray, smiling. “Your Majesty, look at how considerate the shizi is. You’ve been asking for peaches all this time, and as soon as he arrived, he went straight to the Imperial Study to prepare it. Try it while it’s still hot.”

He placed the tray on the table, lifted the cover, and served a bowl. The bowl wasn’t large, and Yin Wuzhi held it in his hand, blowing on it. “Try it.”

Qi Hanmiao, smiling, said, “These are the freshest peaches from Shengguo Temple, sweet and without any added sugar.”

Yin Wuzhi gently dismissed him, “You may go now.”

“Alright.” Qi Hanmiao took his leave, giving them space.

The cooked peach flesh had partially dissolved, leaving some pieces translucent, resembling a jelly Jiang Wu had seen in the future. He hesitantly took a bite, and his mouth was filled with a fragrant, sweet peach flavor, not cloying at all.

His eyes brightened.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

Jiang Wu took another bite. Yin Wuzhi patiently fed him, his expression always calm and kind.

After finishing half a bowl in silence, Jiang Wu finally spoke. “This is the first time I’ve eaten peach soup.”

“If Your Majesty likes it, I will make it for you every year.”

Every year. Jiang Wu hadn’t thought about how long he’d remain in this world. He didn’t like this world very much, nor did he like the identity he held in it.

He finished one bowl, and Yin Wuzhi filled another. Jiang Wu ate half of it before stopping, too full. He let out a soft, peach-flavored burp.

Yin Wuzhi put down the bowl and wiped his mouth. “If you’re done, the rest can be given to the servants.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

“Come,” Yin Wuzhi said, “Take everything away.”

Jiang Wu: “…”

The servants quickly cleared away the remaining peach soup. Yin Wuzhi lifted him up and carried him to the veranda, saying, “The moonlight is beautiful tonight. Look at it for a while, and then rest early.”

Jiang Wu had slept through the entire spring, and by the time he woke up, it was already summer. Sitting in the veranda, he could clearly hear the sound of insects.

Yin Wuzhi no longer forced him to do things he didn’t like.

He didn’t make him eat hard food or force him to take walks outside.

After looking at the sky for a while, Jiang Wu didn’t feel sleepy. He asked, “Yin Wuzhi.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you eat the rest of my peach soup?”

There was a moment of silence before Yin Wuzhi responded.

Jiang Wu knew his question didn’t make much sense. Feeling a bit dejected, he turned his face away, his long hair falling to the side of his face. He remained silent.

“I was full.”

After a brief quiet moment, Yin Wuzhi moved his chair closer and gently cupped Jiang Wu’s head, “Why did you ask?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Hmm.”

“I didn’t die.”

“And?”

“I… don’t feel well.”

“Where do you feel unwell?”

“Looking at you… makes me uncomfortable.”

“Does Your Majesty want me to disappear?”

“No.”

Jiang Wu felt uneasy when he woke up and didn’t see Yin Wuzhi. He felt unsettled when Yin Wuzhi arrived late, and he felt even more uncomfortable when Yin Wuzhi didn’t eat the rest of the peach soup.

Avoiding Yin Wuzhi’s gaze, Jiang Wu’s body seemed to sink into a gloomy, lifeless state again.

The lounge chair was wide. Yin Wuzhi lifted one leg, pressing his knee beside Jiang Wu, then leaned down and cupped his face. “You miss me.”

It wasn’t a question—it was a statement.

He leaned in and kissed Jiang Wu’s lips.

The lounge chair was the kind that could rock. As it tilted back, the entire body could almost lie flat.

Long hair hung down from the back of the chair, swaying as the chair gently rocked under the faint moonlight.

The chair rocked harder, making a creaking sound.

Pale fingers gripped the armrest clumsily.

Taiji Hall was utterly silent.

After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Wu’s long hair had piled on his shoulders, and someone buried their face in his neck, breathing heavily.

Jiang Wu looked up at the sky, where the moon was half-obscured by the veranda, with the remaining half casting a cold, water-like light.

His whole body felt limp, his fingers lazily curling.

Jiang Wu began to feel sleepy and soon drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, Yin Wuzhi was lying beside him. Jiang Wu, still drowsy, turned his head and found Yin Wuzhi watching him.

“Your Majesty is awake. It’s just after dawn,” Yin Wuzhi said, flipping over in bed, propping himself up on his elbows near Jiang Wu’s face. The blanket slipped down to his waist, forming soft curves as it draped.

Jiang Wu: “…”

“Empress Dowager Wen has said… you should rest well,” Yin Wuzhi said, his breath catching slightly. Jiang Wu could feel the pillow beneath his head moving as Yin Wuzhi shifted. He muttered, “I want to sleep.”

“Sleep, then,” Yin Wuzhi pressed his forehead against Jiang Wu’s, whispering, “I’ll stay by your side.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

When he woke up again, it was already noon. He laid there for a while, then opened his mouth to find his throat dry. His voice hoarse, he called, “Yin Wuzhi.”

Footsteps approached, and the bed curtain was lifted. Jiang Wu saw that Yin Wuzhi had changed his attire. He was no longer in his usual neat, tied-up hairstyle with clean and practical clothes. Instead, he wore the thin, revealing robes that Jiang Wu had once prepared to humiliate him.

These clothes were made of sheer fabric, with no patterns or structure, and looked both wild and disheveled when worn. Yin Wuzhi, as a martial general, had always found them distasteful because they would tear easily.

But now…

It wasn’t just the clothes. Even his hair had changed.

His normally immaculate hair, always tied up with a jade crown, was now loosely secured with a wooden hairpin. A few strands hung down messily at the sides, complementing the bright red mole by his eye. The overall effect made him look like a seductive fox spirit emerging from the mountains.

Jiang Wu stared at him for a while and said, “I’m thirsty.”

Yin Wuzhi gave him some water and said, “Now that you’re awake, you should eat something.”

After being fed and rinsing his mouth, Jiang Wu sprawled out lazily on the bed again. Yin Wuzhi smiled and asked, “Do you want to go outside and enjoy the sun?”

“Tired.”

Yin Wuzhi smiled softly, “Then rest some more.”

Yin Wuzhi had suddenly become so attentive.

As Jiang Wu was drifting off to sleep again, he felt the bed sink beside him. He opened his eyes once more and saw Yin Wuzhi sitting down. The ever-graceful young general’s eyes sparkled as he spoke softly, “I’ve been reading reports all morning, and I’m exhausted. May I rest here for a while?”

Jiang Wu didn’t bother moving.

Yin Wuzhi calmly laid down, naturally resting on top of him.

Jiang Wu fell asleep again, and when he awoke, another day had passed.

Then another night.

As the days passed like this, ten days went by in a blur.

Jiang Wu: “.”

One afternoon, when Yin Wuzhi laid down beside him again for a nap, Jiang Wu muttered, “The sun.”

Yin Wuzhi now catered to his every whim. Whether Jiang Wu wanted to lie down or sit up, Yin Wuzhi complied. He didn’t even bother with the usual meals and didn’t nag him to go for walks, not even mentioning the royal garden.

Every day, he just watched Jiang Wu rest, joining him in his relaxation. Though Yin Wuzhi’s version of “resting” was different from Jiang Wu’s. While Jiang Wu laid in bed, Yin Wuzhi would rest on top of him.

No matter how lethargic Jiang Wu felt, he couldn’t ignore that something was off.

The most suspicious thing was that he felt more and more drained. Each time after Yin Wuzhi rested on him, it took a long time for Jiang Wu to recover, but just as he regained his energy, Yin Wuzhi would sap it away again.

He truly was like a reincarnated fox spirit.

The summer sun wasn’t as harsh as in winter. Yin Wuzhi had ordered bamboo blinds to be hung in the veranda to block most of the sunlight and placed ice blocks nearby to keep Jiang Wu cool. “Does Your Majesty need anything else?”

Jiang Wu looked at him.

Yin Wuzhi’s lips were a soft pink. That’s right, this guy still applied the rouge he had picked out for him every day, always managing to smear it all over him.

Jiang Wu recalled how, just a few days ago, Yin Wuzhi had purposely smeared that pink color from his lips onto his body.

Jiang Wu: “.”

A hand gently stroked his cheek, and Yin Wuzhi, ever attentive, asked, “Your Majesty, should I add some more ice?”

Jiang Wu looked at his bewitching and somewhat sultry face, silently averting his gaze.

He silently mocked himself. Time passed so quickly. The boy who once waited for him at the moat wearing a pink-and-white cloak had now grown into a mature woman.

“Your Majesty?” The scent of peaches filled the air, and Yin Wuzhi softly asked, “What’s the matter?”

Jiang Wu said, “Do we still have those peaches now?”

“Now, in Guanjing City, there are peaches sold everywhere.”

“I want to eat some.”

The pink lips parted slightly. “Does Your Majesty want peach soup or peach congee, cold or hot?”

“I want fresh peaches.”

“As you wish.”

“Yin Wuzhi.”

“Yes?”

“The rouge, wipe it off.”

“Your Majesty doesn’t like this one? Then another day, I’ll accompany you to pick a different color.”

Jiang Wu: “Mm.”

Yin Wuzhi pulled out a handkerchief, glanced at Jiang Wu again, and then sat back down, leaning in close. “Your Majesty.”

Jiang Wu: “?”

“Could Your Majesty help me?”

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi’s lips moved closer. “Please?”

Trying to act cute with a Pessimist wouldn’t work, Jiang Wu thought coldly.

“Handkerchief,” he said.

Yin Wuzhi replied, “Such a hassle.”

And then, he pressed his lips against Jiang Wu’s.

Soon, Jiang Wu had a ring of pink lipstick around his mouth.

Satisfied, Yin Wuzhi finally let go.

Jiang Wu: “.”

He watched as Yin Wuzhi then picked up the handkerchief and began wiping the lipstick off his lips. Jiang Wu thought to himself, so this isn’t too much trouble?

It made sense though. After all, it was Yin Wuzhi doing the wiping, not him.

In this weather, the palace had, of course, prepared fresh peaches. The servants quickly brought them over. Yin Wuzhi tidied his disheveled hair, turned to retrieve the peaches, and suddenly Jiang Wu’s gaze locked on the back of his head.

Yin Wuzhi was wearing the Three Lives hairpin, the one Qiu Wuchen had given him.

Wooden hairpins weren’t uncommon, but seeing it in Yin Wuzhi’s hair was unusual.

Especially since the way the hairpin tied his hair seemed familiar.

It reminded Jiang Wu of the stone figure at Wudao Mountain. Many people said the stone figure looked lifelike, but after standing on the mountain for so long, weathering countless storms and years, its features had worn down.

Its face was covered with cracks, making it unrecognizable.

The stone figure knelt straight, its hair loosely tied at the back. Though its hairline had faded, the shape of the hairpin was still clearly visible.

“Your Majesty, do you want one that’s softer or firmer?”

Yin Wuzhi held up two peaches, one in each hand, in front of Jiang Wu. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Perhaps softer would be better. The firm one may be crisp, but it’ll surely be tough on the teeth.”

With a graceful sweep of his sleeves, Yin Wuzhi let the hard peach roll back into the dish.