Chapter 375 What Do You Mean

Chapter 375: What Does It Mean

The last slanting ray of the setting sun cut across his profile, gilding his lean jawline and slightly pursed lips with a soft, downy golden edge.

The light danced across the fine fuzz on his cheeks, and even the wind-tangled strands of hair seemed to melt into the glow.

Wuliji's gaze froze, as if pinned to that halo of light, for a moment forgetting to look away.

Cheng Ge seemed to feel something and whipped his head around, meeting Wuliji's unapologetic stare head-on.

His brows immediately knitted together, annoyance and impatience written all over his face: "The hell are you looking at?"

Wuliji's eyes seemed to flicker, as if jolted awake by Cheng Ge's voice, yet they didn't look away.

His Adam's apple moved slightly, his lips parted, and what came out was that trademark frankness bordering on bluntness.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word cut through the dusk: "You... look good."

Cheng Ge: "............"

Cheng Ge's face darkened, and he turned his head away, silently flipping off Wuliji, who was right there.

The gesture was quick and clean, his fingertip nearly poking Wuliji's nose.

Wuliji stared at the finger suddenly thrust in front of his face, his expression clearly confused.

"What... is this... supposed to mean?" He looked up at Cheng Ge, pure bewilderment in his eyes.

Cheng Ge looked at his dumb, bewildered expression, and his anger, for some weird reason, suddenly fizzled out. In its place bubbled up a wicked, mischievous impulse.

The corner of his mouth curled up into a sly grin. He suddenly leaned in close to Wuliji, his lips almost touching the other man's nose, and lowered his voice:

"This... is simple. It just means 'hello.' It's the highest-standard greeting in the Great Zhou."

Wuliji's gaze darted between that upright middle finger and Cheng Ge's earnest smiling face so close to his.

He hesitated for a second, then slowly nodded like he understood.

Then, he slowly raised both hands and flipped Cheng Ge off with both middle fingers.

Then, as if worried it wasn't sincere enough, he earnestly shoved them closer to Cheng Ge's face.

Cheng Ge: "........."

The sly grin on his face instantly froze, his eyes went wide, and his mouth fell slightly open.

It was like an invisible thunderbolt had struck him, leaving him completely shell-shocked, his soul blasted out of his body.

The expression on Cheng Ge's face crumbled piece by piece. The next second, he practically sprang up, stomping his right foot hard on the ground.

Wuliji hadn't expected Cheng Ge to suddenly attack. On instinct, he shot out a hand and grabbed Cheng Ge's ankle.

What his hand met was a slender ankle and thin muscle, the fragility clear even through the boot.

Wuliji froze, the slight coolness and delicate feel in his palm inexplicably making his chest tighten.

Cheng Ge's strike missed, and his ankle got caught instead. The iron grip, warm and rough, made his scalp tingle and his embarrassment burn even hotter.

"Let go!" he snarled, twisting his waist and yanking his captured right foot back, while pushing off with his left foot and whipping his other leg out like a lash toward Wuliji's lower body!

Wuliji's grip on his ankle was rock steady. He even used Cheng Ge's pulling force to draw him half a step closer, while his other hand shot down like lightning to block the incoming leg.

The distance between them closed in an instant, their breaths almost mingling. Cheng Ge's center of gravity was forced forward, his upper body nearly crashing into Wuliji's chest.

In a flash, Cheng Ge's ferocity was provoked, and he threw technique out the window.

Using the momentum of his forward lunge and the support of Wuliji's grip, he sharply contracted his core, bending the blocked left leg as he went.

The ankle of his captured right leg twisted forcibly too, and both legs rose at an awkward angle, crossing swiftly in midair before locking around Wuliji's neck, which was right there.

It was a completely unorthodox move, relying on sheer stubbornness and flexibility.

Though the strength was weakened by his injuries, the angle and suddenness of the lock caught Wuliji completely off guard.

His neck was trapped by soft yet resilient thighs, his breath caught, and his center of gravity lurched violently sideways.

Cheng Ge locked his legs around the other man's neck and was about to apply force when he overestimated this broken body's stability while off-balance.

The force Wuliji instinctively used to steady himself, combined with Cheng Ge's entire weight resting on that entanglement—and suddenly, the world spun!

"Shit—!" Cheng Ge only had time for a short cry before his legs, wrapped around Wuliji's neck, went slack.

He completely lost his balance and plunged headfirst down the slope!

"!!!" Wuliji's pupils contracted sharply! It all happened in the blink of an eye.

His neck was freed, and in his vision was Cheng Ge's panicked, falling form.

There was no time to think. Every combat instinct and the inexplicable jolt of alarm exploding in his chest drove him forward.

He lunged, and just as Cheng Ge's back was about to slam into the protruding grass roots on the slope, his iron arm seized him hard around the waist.

His other hand shot up to protect the back of Cheng Ge's head, and with all his strength, he crushed the man against his chest!

The tremendous momentum sent them tumbling into a tangled heap, rolling and bouncing violently down the grassy slope!

The world spun madly. His vision shattered into streaking green, gray-blue sky, Wuliji's taut jawline, startled grass blades, and flying dirt...

In his ears were the howling wind, the dense rustle of vegetation scraping past, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground, and his own out-of-control heartbeat mixed with Wuliji's suppressed grunts.

The anticipated agony of a bloody head wound never came. Wuliji held him locked tight against his chest, using his own back, shoulder blades, and arms to absorb most of the rolling impacts and friction.

Cheng Ge's face was forced against his solid chest, his nose filled with the intense, sweaty, dust-laden scent of a man's physique, the scorching heat of his body searing through the fabric against Cheng Ge's skin.

With every roll, every jolt, he could clearly feel the terrifying strength of the arms wrapped around him, and the muscles beneath that tensed like iron with each impact as they cushioned the fall.

Neither knew how many times they tumbled before the slope gradually leveled out, and the thick, tall grass finally absorbed the last of their momentum.

They came to a stop in a hollow cushioned with soft, thick layers of grass, kicking up a cloud of debris and dust.

The spinning finally ceased. Cheng Ge's vision swam with black spots, his ears rang incessantly, and nausea churned in his gut.

Every bone in his body felt disassembled and reassembled, especially his ribs, where a sharp, stabbing pain radiated.

He lay on top of Wuliji, gasping for breath, every inhale pulling at the pain.

Wuliji's chest heaved violently beneath him, yet the arms around his waist and the back of his head remained clamped tight.

Even after they'd stopped, Wuliji unconsciously tightened his hold a fraction more, pressing Cheng Ge, who was instinctively trying to lift his head, back into his sweat-soaked neck.

The smell of grass clippings and dust hung in the thickening dusk.

After a few moments, Cheng Ge finally clawed back a sliver of awareness from the spinning vertigo.

He shifted, trying to push himself up, his palm instinctively landing on Wuliji's chest.

Even through the clothes, he could feel the rapid heartbeat under the firm muscle, and the burning heat seeping through the sweat-soaked fabric.

"...Let... let go!" His voice was muffled, thick with post-roll weakness and leftover irritation.

Wuliji didn't budge. His eyes lingered on Cheng Ge's grass-dusted, slightly messy hair, then drifted to his thin shoulders rising and falling with each breath.

In the earlier scuffle, Cheng Ge's lips had accidentally grazed the side of his neck, leaving a faint, cool, damp trace—but now that spot felt like a spark had hit it, prickling with heat.

Cheng Ge got no response, so he struggled harder, bracing his elbow against Wuliji's chest to push himself off.

The motion made their already flush bodies grind against each other, sharpening the sensation.

Wuliji finally let go of the arm behind Cheng Ge's head, but the hand around his waist stayed loosely in place.

Cheng Ge crawled off him and sat on the grass nearby, immediately turning his head away, hunched over, frantically swatting the dirt and grass off his clothes—quick, jerky moves full of irritation and obvious avoidance.

Wuliji slowly sat up too. He didn't bother cleaning himself off, his eyes never leaving Cheng Ge.

He saw Cheng Ge's hand freeze mid-swat, fingers pressing into a spot on his ribs, his brow knitting hard as he hissed in a breath.

Wuliji got up, walked over, and crouched in front of Cheng Ge, bringing his eyes almost level with the sitting man.

He reached out—not for the spot Cheng Ge had pressed, but to grab the wrist of the hand still absently patting his knee.

Cheng Ge froze, snapping his head up to glare at him. "What now?!"

Wuliji didn't let go, just watched him, his eyes unusually intent and unwavering in the dimming light.

"Take off your clothes... I want to see." His words were clipped, laced with unshakeable concern.

Cheng Ge's eyes went wide, briefly convinced his ears were messing with him.

"Screw you, I'll take you on—" In a flash, they were wrestling again.

As night closed in, the brief scuffle on the grassy slope quickly wrapped up.

After a few muffled thumps and hushed curses, a towering figure stepped out of the deepening dark.

Wuliji walked with steady strides, though his arm was a bit different from usual.

Wedged firmly under his arm was a person squirming and thrashing like crazy.

Cheng Ge dangled head-down, waist and hips locked in that iron arm, hanging in midair, his limbs flailing uselessly.

His mouth ran nonstop with curses, like a feral cat grabbed by the scruff that refused to go down.

"Wusaji! You son of a bitch... put me down! You hear me?! Or I'll bash your skull in!!!"

Cheng Ge was "hauled" back into the tent, and the second his feet hit the ground, he tried to solo Wuliji again.

The whole refined young master persona hadn't even lasted a day before it fell apart completely.

In the end, this "epic battle" ended with Cheng Ge getting completely wrecked.

Cheng Ge lay sprawled out, limbs akimbo, staring at the dark tent ceiling, feeling totally hopeless.

His escape plan had failed before it even got off the ground, his persona was in shambles, and he'd been carried around like a sack of potatoes under some barbarian's arm... The more he thought, the madder he got; the madder he got, the more drained he felt.

He ground his back teeth, thinking, why hadn't that arrow back then just put this bastard down?

Just then, a warm, wet feeling suddenly hit his palm.

He jolted, whipping his head around—only to see a furry dog head that had snuck up out of nowhere.

It was sticking out a long pink tongue, licking his open palm in slow, earnest strokes.

"Dahuang!!!"

When Wuliji came in with the food, he found Cheng Ge and Dahuang locked in a tearful stare, hand (or paw) in paw!

"Dahuang—"

"Whine—woof!"

"Dahuang!"

"Woof woof woof—!"

"My Huang!"

Wuliji: "..."

The dim yellow light of the oil lamp flickered, throwing the shadows of the man and dog onto the felt tent wall.

Cheng Ge half-raised himself, wrapping his arms around Dahuang's neck and burying his face in its thick, fluffy fur.

"My Huang... I thought you were dead! I couldn't eat or sleep, crying my eyes out every day!"

Dahuang, picking up on its master's grief, shoved its wet nose into Cheng Ge's neck and started whimpering too.

"Whine whine whine—woof woof woof!!!"

Wuliji stood at the tent door with a wooden tray, stopping short at the sight of this mutual sob-fest.

In the dim light, Cheng Ge hugged Dahuang, his shoulders shaking a little.

Only a pale sliver of his face and tightly closed eyes showed from where he was buried in Dahuang's fur.

The dramatic wailing had a weird, over-the-top sadness to it—yet oddly... there were no actual tears.

Dahuang, though, was genuinely into it, whimpering and barking back, tail drooping, looking like a fellow sufferer.

The man and dog were so caught up in their "reunion after near-death" drama that neither noticed the figure at the door.

Wuliji watched in silence, steam from the mutton soup on the tray curling up, softening the hard line of his jaw.

He watched Cheng Ge, swept up in the moment, looking like he was about to pass out.

"...Ahem." He cleared his throat, not loud, but clear enough in the otherwise quiet tent.

Cheng Ge's wailing, right at the peak of "crying his eyes out," cut off mid-sentence, his arms around Dahuang going stiff.

He blinked fast at those eyes—which were actually bone dry, though he was desperately trying to muster up some moisture—pulled his face out of Dahuang's thick fur, and turned to look at the door.

In the lamplight, there wasn't a trace of tears on his face. Just some messy strands from rubbing against Dahuang's fur, and eyes slightly reddened from getting too into the role.

Dahuang stopped whimpering, turning its head to look at Wuliji, its tail giving a reflexive wag before pausing, as if reading the room.

Wuliji met Cheng Ge's clearly questioning "what are you doing here" gaze, his face showing nothing.

He walked in calmly with the wooden tray, setting the still-steaming soup and flatbread on the low table.

"Eat..." he said tersely, his voice betraying no emotion.

Right on cue, Cheng Ge's stomach let out a distinct "gurgle."

His forced composure cracked. He released Dahuang and sat up straight, trying to reclaim the demeanor of a noble scion.

Clearing his throat, his gaze swept over the food, then darted briefly to Wuliji, and he said stiffly: "...Just leave it there."

Dahuang, noticing its master had suddenly stopped his "wailing," seemed a bit puzzled.

Its wet tongue licked Cheng Ge's chin with concern, letting out a soft whimper, its dark eyes fixed on him as if asking: Why did you stop?