Chapter 52: Zou Cheng

Chapter 52 Zou Cheng

The weather was getting hot, and people on the streets were wearing light clothes. Everywhere, kids ran around with sweat dripping down their faces, chasing chickens and pestering dogs, earning scolding laughter from the stall owners.

"Be careful, don't knock over my stall! Keep acting up and I'll tell your mom!"

"What's the hurry?"

"Bye! Let's play again tomorrow! Same spot as always!"

"Little Tiger, your mom's calling you home for dinner!"

...

"Young Master Chen? Want a jar of wine? I've also got freshly fried little yellow croaker fish, real crispy."

Chen Shuoan stopped, stood at the stall, and browsed for a bit before pointing at one jar of wine. "I'll take this one—smells great, not like the others."

"Good eye. This one's made with seasonal fruit, super fresh."

"Also give me some of that crispy fish. Make it extra crunchy—the kids love it." Chen Shuoan reached out, lifted the jar of wine to his side, and watched the fish in the pot.

The man chuckled, wrapped up the fish neatly, and handed them over. "This is the last batch—time to close up and get home to the wife."

Chen Shuoan laughed heartily and couldn't help teasing, "Then bring the missus along tomorrow, so you won't miss her so much."

The man waved his hand, his face creasing into a smile. "No, no—it's too hot out. A woman can't handle it."

Chen Shuoan took the food package, paid the silver, and said goodbye. "See you later, brother."

The man waved at him, nagging like a worried old hen. "Young Master Chen, you'd better head back. It's getting dark, and everyone's packing up."

Chen Shuoan turned and gave him a polite smile.

"Got it."

————

"Qingle!"

Chen Shuoan gently pushed open the postal station's door and spotted a young man sweeping the courtyard.

The young man had sharp brows and bright eyes, his skin tanned a healthy dark from years in the sun. His big, bright eyes looked at him, and he smiled, showing a row of white teeth.

Chen Shuoan walked over, lifted his foot, and lightly kicked the young man's sturdy calf, scolding, "Show some respect—call me 'brother,' got it?"

Zou Cheng let out a goofy chuckle but didn't say anything.

"Why's it just you today? Where are your senior brothers?"

Chen Shuoan looked around at the empty postal station and asked.

"We've got a big job today—the senior brothers all went to help out." Zou Cheng brought him a stool, gestured for him to sit, then sat down beside Chen Shuoan like a big fluffy dog. "Here to send another letter, Qingle?"

Chen Shuoan set the things he was carrying on the stone table, pulled the neatly written letter from his sleeve, and handed it to him. "Thanks for your trouble."

"How's your dad been lately? Can he still drink?"

Zou Cheng's eyes flickered as he looked at Chen Shuoan's pale face. "He's been doing well lately. As for the wine, my mom probably only lets him have a little."

He playfully gestured at Chen Shuoan, pressing his thumb and index finger together, showing that his dad really could only drink a tiny bit.

Chen Shuoan burst out laughing, reached out, and ruffled his fluffy hair, pointing at the food package on the table with a gentle voice. "Little crispy yellow fish—your favorite."

Zou Cheng pressed his lips together, unable to hide the joy on his face.

"I'll set out for Pingshuo tonight. Qingle, when I get back, a few days later will be my eighteenth birthday."

His eyes shone like stars, fixed on the package of little crispy yellow fish on the table, and a faint blush crept across his wheat-colored face.

Chen Shuoan raised an eyebrow, surprised, and smiled. "Oh, really? Then I'll have to prepare a proper gift."

"That's not necessary!"

Zou Cheng cut him off abruptly, looking at him nervously with his clear eyes.

"Qingle, you're a teacher and scholar, but my parents are just simple folk," Zou Cheng said, hiding his nervousness by kicking a pebble with his boot, his eyes darting away, unable to meet his gaze. "They wanted to ask if you'd give me a courtesy name."

Chen Shuoan found his bashful manner amusing and had no problem with it. "Of course."

Zou Cheng let out a light breath, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest, and tore open the food package to eat with Chen Shuoan.

Chen Shuoan seemed to realize something, chewing with his cheeks full as he mumbled, "You're heading out tonight?"

"Yeah, there's been a pile-up of letters for Pingshuo these past few days. The senior brothers are all away, so I have to go handle it myself."

"Be careful on the road at night—don't trip." Chen Shuoan set aside the biggest and crispiest little yellow fish from the package for him, reminding him.

Zou Cheng smiled, his brows curving like crescents. "Don't worry, Qingle. My eyes are sharp—I can see fine at night."

————

The last light of dusk faded, and the stalls in the alley had all closed up, leaving only a few lanterns to light the way for latecomers.

Chen Shuoan walked toward the Chen residence by the faint lantern light.

Halfway there, he suddenly felt the jade thumb ring in his sleeve that he'd meant to send with the letter to Rang.

Chen Shuoan immediately stopped, turned around, and hurried back, cursing himself for being an idiot.

He ran until he was drenched in sweat, his breath ragged, praying Zou Cheng hadn't left yet.

The postal station's door was slightly ajar, and Chen Shuoan relaxed, slowing down, thinking Zou Cheng hadn't left yet.

As he got closer, a series of dull thuds—the sound of palms hitting a wooden door—suddenly came from inside.

Chen Shuoan's heart pounded violently, his deer-like eyes flying wide open as he watched something extend from the threshold, limp against the wooden railing, twitching and spasming slightly.

He strained to make it out in the pitch-black night—it was a human hand.

He rushed over, the jade thumb ring tumbling from his sleeve and shattering on the hard ground.

"Zou Cheng!"

Near the door, he caught a thick smell of blood, and his voice trembled with panic.

"Ah..."

Zou Cheng clutched his abdomen with one hand, blood gushing from the sword wound—he had been stabbed clean through.

With his other hand, he lifted it off the wooden railing with great effort, reaching weakly toward Chen Shuoan.

Chen Shuoan's eyes reddened and welled with tears, and with trembling hands he stripped off his outer robe.

Fear made his hands go limp, and he couldn't manage to tear the robe apart.

Chen Shuoan hated himself for being so timid and weak. His eyes burning red, he bit down hard on the collar with his teeth, scrambling with hands and feet, straining with all his might to tear the robe to shreds, then twisted the strips tightly around Zou Cheng's wounded abdomen.

"Someone! Someone come!"

Chen Shuoan clung to Zou Cheng's upper body, sobbing loudly.

Then he fiercely wiped the tears from his eyes, gritted his teeth, and hooked his arms under Zou Cheng's knees, lifting the entire man off the ground, his legs buckling under the weight.

Seeing the large pool of blood spreading on the ground, bean-sized tears could no longer be held back and rolled down his cheeks.

"Qingle... the letter... it's... gone..."

Zou Cheng coughed up blood in broken, choked gasps. His usually bright eyes were now dull and lifeless.

"Father... mother... father..."

Chen Shuoan sobbed uncontrollably, using all his strength to carry Zou Cheng as he ran outside.

"Neighbors... open the door! Help! Someone help!"

Weighed down by the man's weight, he was nearly crawling on his knees. His mountain-green trousers were streaked with blood as he shouted hoarsely while holding Zou Cheng.

————

The summer night was quiet, and a dry, muggy breeze slipped through the slightly ajar window into the room, stirring the stray hairs on Chen Shuoan's forehead.

His tears had not yet dried as he stared blankly at the battered, pain-wracked Zou Cheng on the bed.

His thoughts seemed to drift far away, his whole body feeling weightless, drifting aimlessly with no place to land.

Exhausted and lost.

He seemed to understand something.

His Highness the Sixth Prince had never replied to his letters—not because he was busy, nor because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't.

Danger must be lurking around Yuan Rang.

Even separated by a thousand miles, he himself had been targeted. The theft of a trivial letter was only the beginning.

If he did not cut his losses now, terrible things would keep happening one after another.

The chirping of crickets outside the window, mixed with the increasingly loud croaking of frogs, filtered into Chen Shuoan's ears, making his head throb as if it would split, his whole being growing groggy and dazed.

He turned his swollen, reddened eyes toward the bright crescent moon hanging high in the night sky, and thought dully.

He would not write again. He would not send again.