Chapter 476 Normal Interaction

Chapter 476: Business as Usual

Cheng Ge's cursing and yelling lasted deep into the night before finally stopping.

His voice went from sharp and piercing at first to hoarse and broken by the end.

Until finally, only muffled nasal sounds remained, punctuated by the occasional feeble "animal," "bastard," "you inhuman—"

Like a pot of boiling water with the flame slowly turned down—from a rolling boil to a simmer, from a simmer to tepid, until it cooled completely, leaving only a barely-there wisp of steam drifting in the night.

The moon had traveled from east to west, and the bamboo shadows crawled from one end of the yard to the other.

The courtyard was so quiet that only the rustle of wind through bamboo leaves could be heard, along with the occasional unintelligible murmur drifting through the gaps in the door.

When Ling Feng walked into the courtyard carrying a large basin of water, the moon had already moved toward the west.

His steps were light, so light they seemed to float, as if walking on cotton, and the water in the basin remained perfectly still—not a single ripple.

Moonlight fell on his face. That perpetually stern face now wore a subtle, unreadable expression.

He halted at the door, then turned his head and shot a taunting look at the figure crouched atop the courtyard wall.

Wufeng squatted on the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and rolled his eyes in response.

Ling Feng's lips curled up even more. His hand holding the basin was rock-steady as he walked briskly to the door. He raised his hand and knocked three times.

Knock, knock, knock.

The door opened a crack.

Cui Ji stood behind it, his outer robe hanging open, untied, the lapels loose across his body, revealing a sliver of pale collarbone and faint red marks on his shoulders.

His expression remained as indifferent as ever, revealing nothing, but there was a languid, well-sated tiredness in his eyes and brow.

Wordlessly, he reached out and took the basin from Ling Feng.

Ling Feng kept his head lowered, eyes averted, and retreated after handing over the basin.

Cui Ji took the basin, stepped back inside, and closed the door.

The moment the door shut, the room fell silent again.

Moonlight seeped through the cracks in the window, a few thin strands falling on the floor before the bed, like silver threads someone had carelessly dropped.

Steam rose from the basin, pale and misty, swirling in the moonlight like a small patch of cloud trapped indoors.

Cui Ji carried the basin to the bedside and set it on the wooden footstool.

The hot water swayed, splashing two drops onto the rim with a faint sound, then went still again.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and the bed frame gave a soft creak.

Cheng Ge lay on his stomach, face buried in the pillow, only half his profile and one ear, bright red, visible.

His hair was scattered across the pillow, black as spilled ink, with a few sweat-damp strands plastered to his cheeks.

The blanket was carelessly draped over his waist, revealing a broad expanse of bare shoulder and back, the sharp lines of his shoulder blades clearly visible in the moonlight.

A few faint red marks lay across them, like marks left by fingers pressing hard.

His breathing was heavy, each breath carrying the weight of someone who'd barely survived—like a man just dragged from the water, gasping on the shore.

Cui Ji watched him for a moment, then reached out and brushed the damp strands of hair from his cheek.

His fingertips grazed his cheekbone, damp with sweat, tasting of salt.

Cheng Ge didn't move, as if he lacked the strength to move, or as if he were playing dead.

Cui Ji's fingers slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, then slowly traced down along the curve of his spine in slow, rhythmic strokes, like soothing a cat whose fur had been ruffled.

Cheng Ge's back tensed for a moment, then relaxed, and a muffled, unintelligible mumble escaped his throat—something like "can't anymore," or maybe "keep going."

Cui Ji withdrew his hand and reached into the hot water. The water was scalding, hot enough to turn his fingertips faintly red, but he didn't pull back.

He wrung out a cloth, steam curling from between his fingers, dissipating in the moonlight.

He folded the cloth and laid it on the back of Cheng Ge's neck. Cheng Ge flinched, hissing sharply.

The hot water seeped into his skin, making his whole body tremble, then his body slowly went soft again.

"Does it hurt?" Cui Ji asked.

Cheng Ge buried his face deeper into the pillow and muttered: "No, just hot."

Cui Ji didn't remove the cloth, just pressed his hand on top of it.

The warmth of his palm and the heat of the cloth merged, seeping through the skin, smoothing out the taut muscles little by little.

Cheng Ge's shoulders gradually relaxed, and he let out a few contented hums.

Cui Ji removed the cloth and wrung it out in the basin again.

The hot water splashed with a soft splash, steam rising and blurring his features.

He laid the cloth back on Cheng Ge's back, wiping from his shoulder blades down to his waist, then along his spine.

The cloth was hot, the water was hot, even Cui Ji's fingertips were hot.

That warmth seeped through the skin bit by bit, warming Cheng Ge from the inside out.

Cheng Ge's fingers curled into the pillow, knuckles faintly white, his breathing easing from deep and slow to steady.

"Cui Ji," he said suddenly, his voice still hoarse but clearer than before.

"Mm."

"Aren't you supposed to have weak kidneys?"

Cui Ji's hand paused mid-movement, the cloth hovering over Cheng Ge's waist, steam still rising.

His gaze moved from Cheng Ge's back to the exposed half of his face—that bright red ear still had a strand of wet hair stuck to it.

"Is this king not working hard enough?"

Cheng Ge exploded instantly. His body shot up from the bed, moving as fast as a snake that's been struck at its vital spot.

The blanket slid off his shoulder, revealing a broad expanse of bare chest and abdomen.

"Hiss—" A sharp ache flared up on both sides of his lower back, so intense that his whole body went weak for a moment. His arms trembled, and he nearly lost his balance.

"You weren't sick and you didn't say so earlier—you even mooched all my goji berries off me!"

When he said "goji berries," he ground his teeth, as if he were chewing the words up and spitting them out.

Cui Ji looked at him, saying nothing.

Cheng Ge glanced down at his own hand bracing his waist, then looked back up at Cui Ji, finally getting a taste of his own medicine.

Cui Ji watched him in this state and couldn't help a short, barely-there laugh.

"No way! You're still laughing?!" Cheng Ge's voice cracked as he lifted his hand from his waist and socked him in the chest.

But the sudden move yanked his lower back, and he immediately winced in pain, hissing through his teeth, "Shit—!"

Cui Ji quickly steadied him, his hand pressing against Cheng Ge's lower back, thumbs slowly working the muscles along his spine.

He worked at it for a while until Cheng Ge seemed better, then withdrew his hand and eased Cheng Ge's shoulders back onto the pillow.

Cheng Ge lay there like a boneless slab of meat, all limp and sprawled out, the blanket kicked down to the foot of the bed, just one corner still draped over his calf.

Cui Ji glanced at him, bent down to retrieve the blanket from the foot of the bed, and covered him from chest to ankle, tucking him in snugly, even stuffing his bare toes back under the covers.

Then he stood, set the basin aside, and walked back to climb into bed.

The bed dipped as they lay side by side, half an arm's length apart.

A beat of silence passed.

Cheng Ge's eyes were open, staring at the ceiling beam, its shadow blurry and indistinct.

"Cui Ji," he said, his voice flat.

"Yeah."

"My ass hurts."

A beat of silence.

Cui Ji turned onto his side, reached over, hooked an arm around Cheng Ge's waist, and gave a gentle tug.

Cheng Ge slid across the bed, rolled over, and landed square on top of Cui Ji.

He buried his face in the hollow of Cui Ji's shoulder, forehead pressed against that jutting collarbone, his breath spilling onto the warm skin.

Cheng Ge lay there on him, quiet for a moment.

His fingers drifted from Cui Ji's shoulder to his neck, fingertips stopping at the Adam's apple, lightly tracing back and forth.

So light, like a cat's paw batting at you—not painful, just ticklish.

Cui Ji's Adam's apple rolled beneath his fingertips, like a bead someone flicked, rolling there and back.

"Cui Ji," Cheng Ge spoke again, voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Yeah." Cui Ji answered every single time.

"Hey, when I get old, I won't shit myself—"

Cui Ji clamped his hand over Cheng Ge's mouth in a flash.

His palm was big enough to cover the whole lower half of Cheng Ge's face, palm pressed to his lips, fingers braced against his cheeks.

Cheng Ge's voice came out as muffled "mmph mmph mmph" sounds, like a duck with its beak pinched shut, eyes wide and round.

Cui Ji lowered his head, voice low, "You'll be fine as long as you quit messing around with those wild men out there."

Cheng Ge peeled Cui Ji's hand away. "You—why you gotta put it so crudely? What do you mean, 'messing around'?!"

Cui Ji just looked at him, not saying a word.

Cheng Ge immediately felt a pang of guilt under that stare, his voice trailing off into a mumble: "...It's just normal socializing."

Cui Ji still said nothing. Cheng Ge grew even more uneasy, burying his face back into Cui Ji's shoulder, falling back on the classic male avoidance tactic.

Cui Ji's hand settled back on his waist, kneading it lightly, with measured pressure, and Cheng Ge let out a low grunt.

Cheng Ge lay on him, breathing gradually evening out, like he was mulling something over.

After a long moment, he suddenly jerked his head up, so fast he nearly clipped Cui Ji's chin.

He braced both hands on Cui Ji's chest, propping himself up, hair sliding off his shoulders to hang down on both sides.

He looked down at Cui Ji, eyes blazing bright, a slight curve at the corner of his mouth, with the excited look of someone who just had a brilliant idea.

"Cui Ji," he said, his voice buzzing with restless excitement, "how about next time I'm on top?"

Cheng Ge's eyes grew even brighter, like two polished black stones glinting in the moonlight.

His fingers tapped on Cui Ji's chest, his words speeding up, like he was trying to convince Cui Ji—and himself.

"Anyway, you've got everything I've got, so there's nothing to be scared of, and I bet my technique's better than yours!"

The room went dead quiet.

Cui Ji looked at the hopeful shine in Cheng Ge's eyes, pressed a hand to the back of his head, and said, "We'll talk about it later."

Cheng Ge was speechless.

Cheng Ge looked at the Lin family's plaque, gilded in the sunlight, the two big characters "Lin Mansion" written square and proper—ten times grander than the old place.

He turned to Wuliji and lowered his voice: "When we get inside, talk less and eat more, got it?"

Wuliji gave a single nod, as serious as if he were accepting a military command.

Since the Lin family had rendered meritorious service in defending the throne, the emperor had specially bestowed a new residence upon them. On this auspicious housewarming day, most of the court had shown up.

At the gate, carriages and horses lined up half the street, servants bustling about, congratulatory gifts carried in box after box.

Cheng Ge and Wuliji each carried a gift box and headed toward the Lin residence.

Wuliji wore a dark martial outfit today, his hair tied up neatly.

That was Cheng Ge's doing—he'd re-braided it before they left, and it looked presentable enough—as long as he kept his mouth shut.

The old steward at the gate took the invitation, glanced at it, then at Wuliji, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment. He didn't ask anything and respectfully ushered them in.

"Marquis, please, right this way..."

The two passed through the screen wall, rounded the spirit wall, and found the front courtyard already set with a dozen tables, buzzing with chatter.

Lin Zhufeng was standing in the courtyard greeting guests, wearing a new robe of dark cyan.

His hair was tied up immaculately, and a practiced, proper smile was fixed on his face.

Zhang Gelao was holding Lin Zhufeng's hand as they spoke, the old man's hair and beard snow-white, but he was full of energy.

"Last time, the Grand Tutor mentioned wanting to eat corn, but when I sent someone to find it, they said it wasn't in season yet."

He sighed, with a hint of apology, "I sent someone to find some potatoes instead. I tried them, and they're soft and fluffy—perfect for those of us with poor teeth."

Lin Zhufeng: "..."

The corner of Lin Zhufeng's mouth twitched slightly. "...That's very thoughtful of you, Gelao."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of that bamboo-green figure by the screen wall.

He quietly took half a step back and elbowed Lin Nanshu, who was behind him.

Lin Nanshu was in the middle of a conversation and was caught off guard by the nudge. He turned his head and asked in a low voice, "Grandfather?"

Lin Zhufeng shot a pointed look that way.

Lin Nanshu followed his gaze—under the sunlight, Cheng Ge was tilting his head, saying something to Wuliji, and smiled, his eyes crinkling into crescents.

His expression softened.

Lin Zhufeng nudged him again and urged in a low voice, "Go on, get moving."

Lin Nanshu handed his teacup to a servant, straightened his sleeves, and headed toward the front courtyard.

He walked up to Cheng Ge, and the sunlight cast their shadows on the ground, overlapping each other.

"Muyu," he said, his voice even, but his eyes told a different story.

"Congratulations on the new place." Cheng Ge handed over the gift box.

Lin Nanshu took it, passed it to the servant behind him, glanced at Wuliji, and nodded. "Please, come inside and sit."

Wuliji didn't say anything, just stood by Cheng Ge's side.

Lin Nanshu's gaze shifted back to Cheng Ge's face, a smile on his own. "Grandfather sent me to come get you. Let's go in."

"Oh, okay." Cheng Ge patted Wuliji's arm and stepped forward to walk inside.

Cheng Ge was now the Emperor's top favorite—red-hot and in demand.

He had only taken a few steps inside when officials holding wine cups started coming up to him.

One, two, three—like fish in a pond spotting bait, they swarmed from all directions.

Each smile brighter than the last, each flattery more polished—

"The Marquis is really on a roll lately."

"The Emperor just can't get by without you, Marquis."

"The Marquis is young and accomplished, with boundless prospects."

Cheng Ge smiled and handled it all, the corners of his mouth lifted, his eyes curved, saying, "You flatter me," "You're too kind, sir," "I owe it all to His Majesty."

"Please support me by donating if you enjoy my work. In a few days, I'll start writing side stories for the main couple. If any of you have requests, feel free to submit them—if they fit, I'll write them."