Chapter 454: Day 19 into the Farming Story

Chapter 454: Day Nineteen in a Farming Novel

"Thank you." An Yi gently placed the seeds on a corner of the stone table, his tone softer than usual. "I really appreciate you going through all that trouble."

"I'm glad you like them!" Di Qingji grinned and immediately pulled something else out of his cloth bag—a little palm-sized box. He flipped open the clasp, and inside lay a few pieces of jade with a soft, warm gleam.

"I grabbed these at the market in Lin County. They're the usual jade you find around there... well, I guess you could call them pretty rocks."

Di Qingji picked up one that was milky white and weighed it in his palm. "I just thought the colors and patterns were kind of unique. I figured you could use them to hold down book pages or painting paper, or just set them on the windowsill or your desk as decoration. They're not worth anything much, but I just thought... they looked nice."

An Yi's eyes swept over the stones, then landed on Di Qingji's face—a face that was trying hard to look casual but couldn't quite hide the hope underneath.

He reached out, his long, slender fingers trailing lightly over the stones in the bamboo box, taking in their different temperatures and textures.

Then he looked up, met Di Qingji's eyes, and the corner of his mouth curved into a smile. "I really like them."

He paused, his gaze moving from the seeds to the stones. "Every single one of them."

Di Qingji couldn't hold back his smile anymore. He grabbed his teacup, tipped his head back, and downed the rest of the tea in one gulp, using the motion to hide the grin that was about to split his face in half.

He set the cup down and cleared his throat, barely managing to hold back the urge to just burst out laughing.

His gaze slid past An Yi's shoulder toward the backyard, and he smoothly switched topics. "Were you... working on the flower bed out back?"

"Mm." An Yi glanced in that direction and replied, "Just loosening the soil, picking out rocks and grass roots. It's been neglected for a long time—the dirt's all packed down hard."

"You don't need to be doing that kind of work yourself." Di Qingji jumped right in, getting to his feet and rolling up both sleeves in one smooth motion, pushing them past his elbows to show off two sturdy, powerful forearms, the muscles flexing slightly as he moved. "Let me do it. I've got the strength for this—I'll have it done in no time."

Even as he said it, he was already striding off toward the backyard with long, quick steps.

An Yi watched him go, caught off guard for a second, then let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.

Without a word, he got up and followed at a leisurely pace.

Out back, the little hoe was still leaning against the wall, and next to it was the flower bed, about a fifth of it already loosened, with a small pile of cleared rocks and tangled grass roots beside it.

Di Qingji walked over, bent down, and picked up the little hoe, which was on the lighter side. He gave it a quick heft in his hand and chuckled. "This hoe's a little light, but it'll get the job done."

Before the words even left his mouth, he was already swinging the hoe, working with practiced ease.

An Yi didn't try to stop him. He just stood there quietly, watching.

Sunlight slanted into the backyard, tracing the outline of Di Qingji's profile as he bent over his work.

He hunched his back a little, focused on the dirt under his feet. Fine beads of sweat broke out at his temples, ran down his jawline, and dripped into the soil he was turning, leaving small dark spots in the dirt.

His bronze skin had a healthy glow under the autumn sun. Under his rolled-up sleeves, the muscles in his forearms tensed and relaxed with every swing—smooth, fluid lines full of strength.

An Yi watched, and the smile at the corner of his mouth grew a little deeper.

He stepped forward, about to help.

"Hey, don't you dare!" Di Qingji caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and straightened up right away, holding out a dirt-stained hand in a half-hearted stop gesture. "This work's dirty. I've got it—you just stand right there."

An Yi stopped and raised an eyebrow at him.

This was his flower bed, after all. How was he supposed to just stand there?

But when those clear eyes locked onto his, Di Qingji's heart skipped another beat. He recovered quickly though, a smile spreading across his face with a glint of mischief and anticipation in his eyes. He suggested, "If you really want to help... how about you read to me instead?"

"Hm?" An Yi hadn't expected such a request.

Di Qingji lowered his lashes, thinking to himself—An Yi's voice was so nice, clear and melodious. It was made for reciting beautiful poetry or humming some soothing little tune.

As for this rough, tiring work—he'd take care of it himself.

An Yi looked at him, and in those eyes, he could clearly see Di Qingji's sweat-sheened face, beaming with pure, unrestrained joy, along with that naked, straightforward longing to be close.

That longing was so vivid, so intense, like the heat rolling off his body in that moment.

A hint of a smile crept into An Yi's eyes.

He didn't say anything, just smiled at Di Qingji, then turned and headed back toward the front of the house.

Di Qingji watched him go, standing there rooted to the spot, hoe still in hand, grinning like an idiot for a long while. Only when he heard faint sounds from the front did he quickly wipe the grin off his face, bend back down, and start swinging the hoe with even more effort—though his ears stayed pricked, straining to catch any sound from An Yi.

Before long, An Yi came back carrying a lightweight bamboo chair.

He set the chair down next to the flower bed and sat down, relaxed and easy.

Then he pulled out a book, opened it to where he'd left off, and cleared his throat.

Sitting in the bamboo chair, tall and relaxed, he lowered his lashes, his gaze settling on the pages as his clear, pleasant voice flowed through the little backyard:

"...Continuing west for another thirty li, you gradually enter the mountains. The slopes are steep, the forests deep and shadowed, with the occasional cry of apes and song of birds echoing through the empty valleys—a ceaseless, crystalline sound. Strange herbs grow thick along the path, some bearing flowers like little bells, hanging down all delicate and charming, swaying gracefully in the breeze while a faint fragrance drifts through the air..."

Di Qingji bent over his work, unconsciously making his movements lighter so he wouldn't disturb the reading.

He listened to that clear voice describing distant mountain views, strange herbs, and the scent of flowers, and found that even the boring work of turning soil had become something full of joy.

As he listened, he couldn't help sneaking glances at An Yi, who sat in the sunlight with his head bowed over his book.

That face—so handsome it seemed almost unreal—was now calm and focused. His long lashes cast fan-shaped shadows under his eyes, and his pale lips parted and closed, giving voice to one beautiful syllable after another.

The sunlight haloed him, making him look even more like some immortal who'd accidentally fallen into the mortal world, reciting heavenly texts for the benefit of an ordinary man like himself.

An indescribable feeling surged up from the depths of Di Qingji's heart and spread through every limb in an instant.

He quickly lowered his head and swung the hoe even harder, using the exertion to steady his nearly runaway heartbeat and the smile at the corner of his mouth that he couldn't hold back anymore.

This felt amazing.

He was truly, completely happy.