The Daily Life of a Depressed Salted Fish Chapter 85

Heavy clouds loomed, and soon the rain began to fall.

The osmanthus branches that hung over the palace wall quickly turned into a small cascade, the water flowing down.

The palace was shrouded in misty rain.

Jiang Wu nestled under the veranda, listening to the steady sound of the downpour and feeling the coolness in the air, as he slowly closed his eyes.

Someone came over, moving his chair back a little, and then, Jiang Wu felt a slight weight.

The person holding him was trembling slightly, burying their face in his shoulder, their forehead pressed against his cheek, smooth and soft to the touch.

“Hold me,” the person said, their voice heavy with sadness.

Ah, how clingy.

Jiang Wu’s fingers slowly made their way up to the person’s shoulder, then to their hair, and he held them close.

Yin Wuzhi, resting against him, his face buried in Jiang Wu’s chest, stayed silently embraced for a while, and finally settled. He sniffled, then unexpectedly chuckled softly.

Jiang Wu: “?”

Yin Wuzhi, despite trying to hold back, let out another laugh.

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi looked somewhat pleased but also a bit sheepish. Trying to keep his smile in check, he said, “Are you confessing to me?”

Jiang Wu corrected him, “Just the truth.”

“So, meeting me, seeing me, makes you feel lucky, makes you…happy?”

“Yes.”

“Your Majesty, you really do like me.” Yin Wuzhi smiled. “You like me so very much.”

Jiang Wu, uncertain, said, “I think so.”

Yin Wuzhi, resting his chin on Jiang Wu’s shoulder, looked into his pale face. “I want to hear you say that you like me.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi turned his head and looked at him. “Your Majesty, say you like me.”

“…” Jiang Wu responded softly, “Don’t mess with me.”

“Say you like me.” Yin Wuzhi bit his lip, “Say you like me.” He pecked his nose, “Say you like me.” His hands roamed over him, “Say you like me.”

Jiang Wu, feeling a little tickled, finally broke into a smile, his calm face softening. He replied quietly, “Such rebellion.”

“I want to hear it. I want to hear you say you like me and can’t live without me.”

Like him, can’t live without him. Jiang Wu had never believed that anyone couldn’t live without another, and he was too indifferent to fabricate such insincere lies. To him, they held little meaning.

Yin Wuzhi’s hopeful gaze slowly grew tinged with unease. Before Jiang Wu could reply, he spoke again, “Just say you like me; that’s all.”

Then he changed the subject, “I’ll go get you some fruit to eat.”

As he stood up, his hair was tugged slightly—this time harder, as if Jiang Wu had done it on purpose. Yin Wuzhi stumbled back, propping his arms on the sides of Jiang Wu’s chair.

Jiang Wu leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips.

“I like you,” Jiang Wu said. “And I can’t live without you.”

Yin Wuzhi’s eyes glistened, tears filling them. Even with that small red mole, he was still the same Yin Wuzhi—the simple, devoted young general who could be lifted to the skies by a single word or plunged into despair with another.

Jiang Wu reached up and wiped the tears from his cheek. Yin Wuzhi chuckled a bit and asked, “Would you like some fruit?”

“Peach.”

Jiang Wu watched him, unmoving.

He saw Yin Wuzhi lean in and press his lips to his own, his damp eyelashes brushing against him, fully wet with emotion.

At that moment, he understood the significance behind saying things that defy the truth, knowing full well they’re impossible, and yet they exist in this world.

Such a simple thing—to see the one he cares for smile.

Qi Hanmiao was still recovering, so Yin Wuzhi suggested that he get proper rest. Jiang Wu agreed.

As he was escorted out by Yin Wuzhi, Qi Hanmiao cheerfully remarked, “I always knew the shizi would succeed in moving His Majesty.”

Yin Wuzhi nodded earnestly, “I heard all about how you spoke on my behalf before the Great Empress Dowager, even suffering punishment for me. Thank you.”

“Ah,” Qi Hanmiao waved his hand dismissively. “This old servant only wishes for His Majesty’s happiness—that’s worth more than anything. No need to see me off; I’ll be fine.”

Yin Wuzhi summoned a young eunuch to support Qi Hanmiao and watched him disappear down the corridor.

Life for Jiang Wu returned to normal. He still held court every other day and, with summer here, rose obediently a bit earlier.

Yin Wuzhi seemed exhausted, often sleeping deeply by his side, lightly holding him in such a way that Jiang Wu could move freely, though any movement would wake Yin Wuzhi.

Fortunately, Jiang Wu was not one to fidget, so his rest was undisturbed.

There was no court today, but Jiang Wu woke up early.

The first sight to greet him was Yin Wuzhi’s almost flawless sleeping face. He quietly took it in until Yin Wuzhi’s brows twitched, his arms tightening, drawing Jiang Wu closer. Jiang Wu knew that this movement meant he was about to wake up.

As they laid close, Yin Wuzhi let out a soft hum, shifting to embrace him differently.

Jiang Wu’s lips brushed his chin.

Naturally, he puckered his lips and gave Yin Wuzhi a stealthy little kiss.

It was such a slight gesture that Yin Wuzhi, still groggy, didn’t notice at all.

After a while, Yin Wuzhi gathered him even closer.

It was somewhat uncomfortable.

Yet oddly, Jiang Wu didn’t mind this closeness. He even hoped Yin Wuzhi would hold him just a bit tighter, though he thought this way was nice too.

Yin Wuzhi’s hand pressed his head to his chest.

Jiang Wu remained still, eyes open and quiet for a moment, beginning to feel drowsy again until he drifted off.

If it were up to him, he would spend all his time lying around, but when he woke up from this nap, he felt something close to regret.

If he stayed idle, Yin Wuzhi would be busy, so Jiang Wu ordered to be wheeled to the imperial study, watching him work.

As Yin Wuzhi pored over reports, he would occasionally grab a newly plucked grape and place it in Jiang Wu’s mouth. Jiang Wu, not prone to moving, wouldn’t even have to adjust his posture.

“Yin Wuzhi,” Jiang Wu suddenly spoke, “how long do you think I can live if I keep this up?”

Yin Wuzhi immediately stopped reading, looking at him. “What?”

“If I don’t move, how long will I last?”

“No matter how long,” Yin Wuzhi promised, “I’ll stay with you.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

That night, as Yin Wuzhi fed him dinner, Jiang Wu glanced at the vegetables on the table. “Yin Wuzhi.”

“Hmm?”

“If I don’t eat vegetables, will it make me unhealthy?”

Only after a moment, Yin Wuzhi realized and fed him a bite of vegetables.

It wasn’t bad—crisp, with a pleasant texture. Jiang Wu hadn’t eaten vegetables before because it felt like too much effort. Although it still felt tiring, he was now curious: why did normal people like vegetables? Because they tasted good, because they’re nutritious, or simply to stay alive?

He swallowed a leaf of greens, and Yin Wuzhi offered him a few spoonfuls of porridge before another bite of greens.

Jiang Wu ate it all.

That evening, he told Yin Wuzhi, “I’ll go for a walk with you.”

Yin Wuzhi was taken aback, replying, “If there’s no breeze, it may be hot at night.”

“I want to go.”

Yin Wuzhi put down his chopsticks, his meal barely started, and said, “Wait for me.”

He left the room for a short while before returning. “I’ll hold your hand.”

Jiang Wu pushed himself up, and Yin Wuzhi, as if guiding a child learning to walk, held both of his hands as he slowly stepped back. “Your Majesty…”

“I’m not unable to walk.” Jiang Wu moved his feet forward slowly, speaking lazily, “Just act normal.”

“I was only worried you’d fall after being a spirit for so long.”

Yin Wuzhi led him out of the Taiji Hall, finally easing up a bit.

Outside, the heat was indeed unbearable, evident from the flushed faces of the servants standing around. But as soon as Jiang Wu stepped out, he felt a refreshing chill—there were several attendants each pushing a small cart of ice blocks beside him.

Jiang Wu stumbled slightly and quickly leaned towards Yin Wuzhi. Yin Wuzhi touched his head, “Are you feeling hot?”

With so much ice around him, it’d be strange if he were.

Jiang Wu hung onto him, moving his feet slowly toward the imperial garden. After a while, Yin Wuzhi asked again, “Would you like me to carry you?”

With that invitation, Jiang Wu simply collapsed into his arms.

Yin Wuzhi chuckled and lifted him up.

They climbed to the pavilion atop the rock garden, where Jiang Wu was placed on a cool chair prepared ahead of time. The ice blocks were piled on one side of the pavilion, and with a breeze, the whole place felt refreshingly cold.

Lying back, Jiang Wu lazily opened his mouth to eat the watermelon Yin Wuzhi offered. “Yin Aifei.”

Yin Wuzhi paused, stuffing another bite into his mouth as he said sternly, “What are you calling me?”

Jiang Wu looked at him sideways. “Ai Fei*.”
*beloved consort

Well, if that’s how it was, so be it. Yin Wuzhi peeled a grape and placed it in Jiang Wu’s mouth, “What’s gotten into you today?”

Nothing really, Jiang Wu just wanted to try living like a regular person. He hadn’t expected such a normal life to be this exhausting. Why couldn’t people just fly?

Yet, exhaustion aside, to have a place to lie back anytime, and someone always ready to hold him… this life didn’t seem so bad.

With his hands loosely at his sides, Jiang Wu closed his eyes while contemplating.

“Yin Wuzhi, I’m very comfortable.”

Yin Wuzhi looked at him.

Jiang Wu continued contentedly, “When I was a spirit, I felt there was nothing in the world worth caring about. Without happiness, there was no unhappiness.”

Without understanding joy, sorrow couldn’t truly be understood either.

However, being human is different. Humans have joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. It’s like how, only after exhaustion, can you lie here and truly feel a sense of ease and comfort.

If you were to lie there all the time, it wouldn’t feel particularly special anymore.

He had grown accustomed to despair, to the point where he didn’t care about anything.

But in truth, that’s just how people are. The difference between someone steeped in despair and an ordinary person is that the former cares about absolutely nothing in this world, while others still have things they don’t care about too.

This doesn’t mean he’s abnormal.

He always felt there were countless benefits to dying, so he couldn’t tolerate even a hint of unhappiness in life.

He hated how exhausting life was, hated how he couldn’t get a good night’s sleep, hated having to rise early for court, hated how there were always others trying to control him.

But the truth was, he simply hadn’t found the good in living yet.

It’s like liking someone.

If you can’t accept one of their flaws, then all their virtues are meaningless. But if you love just one of their virtues, it can overshadow all their flaws.

“Your Majesty, is there anyone or anything you care about now?”

Jiang Wu didn’t know, but he just felt incredibly comfortable at this moment.

So comfortable that he didn’t know how to describe it.

Clearly, he had felt comfortable before—always lounging around, looking far happier than those toiling away—but this was the first time he truly felt happiness.

An indescribable kind of happiness.

He walked on the land, moving his feet slowly. When he grew tired and slumped to the side, someone caught him. When he said he didn’t want to walk anymore, someone picked him up.

In his ears, the chirping of insects was noisy yet calming. It was a peaceful night, impossibly so.

And yet, he was happy.

After wandering for so many years, he had never felt this kind of happiness before. He thought he might remember it for a long time. Even if one day he forgot what Yin Wuzhi looked like or the details of this day, the happiness that penetrated his very bones and made his whole body tremble would remain etched in his memory.

He wanted more happiness, just like today.

“Yin Wuzhi,” he said, “you’re so good.”

“So good that it overshadows all the bad in this world.” He thought saying this would make Yin Wuzhi happy. “Let’s elope.”

After a brief silence.

Yin Wuzhi said, “Out there, it might not be as comfortable as being an emperor.”

Jiang Wu thought of his millennia of wandering, the struggling commoners he’d seen, and the packed crowds riding electric dragons in the future.

He felt the coolness of the ice next to him and glanced at the servants sweating beneath the rock garden.

“I meant, let’s go out for a stroll.”