The waterlogged book had its pages all stuck together. It was almost too tragic to look at.
âThatâŠâ
I wanted to snatch it away with my hands.
He gave me an indifferent look, neither warm nor imposing, but to make me tremble in place. This is how he stood in front of me, with his slender fingers flipping page after page through the book, face expressionless.
Although the book had been soaked with water, letting some of its ink run, the figures and positions, as well as the actions going underway, were still easy to see. No matter how good his temper was, these clandestine-type pictures would still infuriate him, right?
I bowed my head, docilely staring at the ground in a daze.
From a distance, Han Zichuan walked over with the qin in his arms, his face looking at us in curiosity. Now he had stopped in place, his hesitation obvious.
The dripping book had already made Fang Huaâs clothing wet to the point that they were starting to sag. The drops of water made a pitter patter sound the moment they splashed onto the ground.
My heart suddenly felt heavy.
âYouâŠwhat did you buy.â he looked at me, speaking in a measured tone and pace. The hands holding the book also lowered themselves.
âShaoâer wonât dare to in the future,â I answered meekly.
He sucked in a deep breath, pinching the book between his fingers as he took as step forwards. The cloth rippled like swaying forms of liquid clouds, and was really quite pretty to see, but today the sight frightened me.
I trembled and quickly backed away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his chest, resting his head by my neck with a smile. With every breath he took, I felt unbelievably ticklish.
â⊠âŠthank you very much.â
Ah.
What did he say?
He suddenly thanked meâŠhow weird.
Before I could react, yifu let me go, pinching the book between his fingers as he spoke to Han Zichuan. The words made me want to spit blood. âLook at what Shaoâer brought meâŠâ He raised his eyebrows in satisfaction, even picking one of the most âstimulatingâ pictures to wave below his face. âSee this? An acupuncture diagram of mortals.â
At this point, I felt like killing myself.
Are you seriousâŠ.
âIs that so.â Han Zichuanâs reply was obviously meant for me. He took ahold of the sopping wet paper before shooting me a glance, looking calm and composed.
Itâs just that look in his eye⊠âŠwas full of condemnation, enough to merit a serious reflection.
It was getting harder to hold onto my smile, especially with my face getting stiffer.
âHmm?â Fang Hua made a soft noise, then gave a steady smile. He looked up to see Han Zichuan, the teardrop-mole beneath his eye filled with particularly tender feelings. âIf you want one as well, buy it yourself next time. I canât give you this one.â
I was left at a loss. There he stood waving the book, back and forth.
Han Zichuan turned aside and gave me a vicious look. The fingers he was using to hold onto the book started pressing down with enough strength to turn them white.
I could only remain silent and stare at the skies.
The weather wasnât bad today.
I had the distinct feeling that the stare leveled my way was increasing their killer intent. I steeled myself and looked towards the surrounding trees. Each tree had leaves that looked like leaves, roots that looked like roots.
Han Zichuanâs eyes on me were filled with an extreme bitterness.
Fang Hua noticed the turmoil within Zichuanâs heart and smiled at him, his eyes roving charmingly. Just when the other was struck dumb, he deftly tugged on the book and claimed it back. Then he used his sleeves to wipe away the water staining its surfaces.
I broke out into a sweat at the sight.
âYifu, that bookâs already wet. Why donât you return it to me, and next timeâŠâ My eyes turned towards him as I spoke with a genial smile. âIâll buy a new one for you, all right?â
âThat wonât do.â Fang Hua smiled back, a dazzling sight. He was usually such a clean and tidy person, but now he was hugging the wet book to his chest, unwilling to even use the same sleeve heâd wiped the book with to clean my face. âThis trip must have been sweltering for you, youâre sweating so much. Thereâs still some iced pickled plum soup[1] in the house, Iâll bring some over for you.â
I wanted to cry, but I had no tears.
Iâm not like this because itâs hot, but because you both made me break out in cold sweat.
âAs for thisâŠâ The outline of the book was just visible within his embrace. He touched it and said, âThis is the first gift that Shaoâerâs even given me, Iâm going to have to read it everyday.â
His mood seemed excellent as he waved his sleeves and walked off.
I stared after him, tongue-tied.
That book of pornographic picturesâŠwas taken away by him in this manner.
Han Zichuan stared at me again, stuck between anger and amusement. âIâll settle things with you later.â
Thus speaking, he followed after him at a quick pace.
A fresh wind blew past, stirring up the fallen leaves. I stood in the midst for a long time, my mind in disorder. Finally, I clutched at my head and decided to stop thinking about it.
I should take care of the important things first.
After checking to make sure no one else was aroundâŠI lifted up my robes and ran to the side of the house, next to a giant Wutong tree. Kneeling on the ground, I picked up a small branch and started digging.
The hole I dug was neither large nor small, but just right. I used a handkerchief to carefully wrap up the large amount of paper money and gold leaves, pressed down the corners before putting them in the hold⊠âŠ
I was just about finished. My ears strained to pick up any sign of noise as I threw the dirt back in the hole.
I couldnât help it. This was a trait Iâd picked up from childhood. When I was a beggar, I was always hungry, so I got used to hiding my best things in the dirt to give me a chance for survival. NowadaysâŠthere was no way for me to change my habits.
âBrother Shao, what are you doing now?â I wasnât clear when a person had suddenly come to stand behind me to ask this question, scaring me out of my seven emotions and six spirits.
âHan Zichuan.â I held the tree branch in my handsâŠmy hands shook with the urge to sweep the dirt onto his face, but I held back and sat with a plop on the ground. âDidnât you go to help yifu? Whyâd you come over here?â
He was very concentrated on staring at me.
I gave a no-good sigh and smiled as my hand grabbed another fistful of dirt and quietly scattered it over my hole.
âThe thing you boughtâŠâ He narrowed his eyes and leaned in, quietly. âWas it a pornography book?â
âYour experiences are really broad, I canât hide a thing from you.â Then I paused. âWhatâs pornography?â
âYouâre faking it, arenât you.â
He gave me a sideways glance, then looked at the dirt and smiled. âDonât sit on the ground. I should really bring one of these things back. Iâve never seen someone act so filial to their yifu before, even buying things like this for him.â
Fellow brother⊠âŠ
I bought it for myself. If yifu wanted to steal it away, then what could I do?
I was sullen.
Maybe Iâd been squatting for too long, but now my legs had turned numb and my feet were listless. I propped myself up, but my stomach felt strange. The insides felt oddly hot and painful.
âCan you give me a handâŠâ
âWhatâs wrong? You donât look so good.â He hurried over to support me, eyebrows knitted together. After a long moment of consideration, he placed a hand on my forehead. âBrother Shao, do you feel unwell somewhere?â
I did feel a little unwellâŠ
I leaned against a tree and pushed him aside.
But he came back over, still worried, and prepared to support me again.
âWhat are you two doing?â a slow and gentle voice rose up, its tender delicacy pierced with a certain coldness.
Both of us were startled.
-o-
[1] iced pickled plum soup (ć°æą ćæ±€) ïŒbing meizitang, how do I describe itâŠitâs not made using fresh plums, but preserved/pickled ones that have a tartness to their sweetness. You boil with with sugar in water I think, and then let it coolâŠitâs really refreshing for summer! I wouldnât call it a soup, itâs more like a drink, but itâs cooked like a soup soâŠ.???