Chapter 230: The Wind Ceases (Part 2)

If Le Wuya knew that Xiang Zhi Jie was thinking of him in such a manner, he would likely cry out to high heaven about being wronged.

It wasn't like he had any say in when the Japanese pirates would strike.

As for the "maritime defense" examination question, that was something that old emperor had devised behind closed doors himself.

Le Wuya wasn't some kind of mystic con man.

However, to say that he had not given any thought to Wen Ren Yue's imperial examination would also be incorrect.

Le Wuya had run them ragged, cutting off their escape routes from every angle, forcing the scattered pirate bands to cluster together around their commander, Fukami Shitaro, like rats in a sinking ship.

After driving them all onto the island in one go, he cut off their food supplies, brazenly carried on trade right under their noses, and sent memorials to the court bragging about his accomplishments, showcasing his resolve to fight the pirates to the bitter end. All of this was deliberately meant to force the pirates into a quick, decisive showdown.

A swift battle paid off in a hundred ways.

And one of those benefits landed squarely on Wen Ren Yue.

Whether to lift the maritime ban was a hot-button issue at court, and the odds of it showing up as an exam question were pretty damn good.

Wen Ren Yue had worked alongside him in Tongzhou for a stretch, had dabbled in maritime defense matters, and was dead set on opening up maritime defense, eliminating pirates, and benefiting the people.

This topic played right into his strengths.

And if he could hand the court a monumental military victory, then even if the imperial examination did not ultimately use "maritime defense" as its theme, Wen Ren Yue, as a bright young star closely tied to him, would definitely leave a good impression on the old emperor.

Basically, it was just a bonus—killing two birds with one stone while he was at it.

He'd just let fate do its thing.

He had other fish to fry right now.

...

After the baptism of a hundred cannons roaring in unison, not all the pirate ships had been blown to smithereens.

Three or four ships just had chunks blown off their sides, but the pirates on board were scared shitless, terrified of going down with the ship, and leapt overboard to save their own hides.

Le Wuya took stock of which ships were still seaworthy, patched them up in a hurry, and then brazenly cribbed Fukami Shitaro's playbook on the spot. Under cover of darkness, he dragged along three pirates who knew the route, flew Fukami Shitaro's banner, and pulled a surprise counterattack, bold as brass.

The pirates left holding the fort saw the ships coming back and, while barking orders to man the defenses, went out to meet them, nervous and unsure what to expect, wondering to themselves whether it was a win or a loss.

They didn't have to wonder for long.

The second the ships hit the shore, arrows came down like a storm, raining down on the lead pirates' heads.

After dropping the first few, Yuan Zijin strode out in full armor, grabbed his sword, fearless and unflinching, charging head-on into the gleaming blades of the pirates in front of him.

When the blades met, the enemy's sword snapped clean in half with a single blow!

Blacksmith Zhang Sanqing's blades were all top-of-the-line.

Every firing, quenching, and hammer blow was steeped in this old man's fierce loves and hatreds.

While the enemy stood there gaping at his broken blade, Yuan Zijin had already opened his throat with a single slash!

A head went flying off, wobbling through the air, kicking off this battle to purge the island of pirates.

Fukami Shitaro had taken most of the island's supplies and damn near all his elite troops, leaving just a small crew of loyal, capable men behind to cover his ass.

So these guys' will to fight was shaky from the get-go.

And when they saw Fukami Shitaro's corpse trussed up to his own flagpole, their nerve completely broke. They dropped their gear and ran for it, trying to grab the few remaining skiffs to get away from these garrison troops who were so pumped up they'd take on the Jade Emperor himself.

But the boats left behind were either waiting for repairs or had had half their nails secretly pulled—total crap jobs.

These guys scrambled aboard, only to find the boats floated fine when empty, but the second a man sat down, the damn things started sinking!

Le Wuya didn't really get stuck in for this fight.

He sat under Fukami Shitaro's corpse, chomping on a crab apple, taking his sweet time wrapping the wound on his arm.

He'd only come to boost their morale and give these garrison boys some peace of mind.

Kicking a man when he's down was always his favorite pastime.

The arm wound was no big deal—just a flesh wound.

Back in the Tianlang Camp days, he'd often chased down enemies while banged up, picking off fleeing soldiers with one well-placed arrow.

And yet...

Le Wuya looked up at the moon hanging on the horizon, fingered the little chess piece hanging at his neck, looking thoughtful.

...

By the time the first gray light of dawn crept in, nine out of ten pirates in Tongzhou had been wiped out, without a trace.

And Le Wuya had his eye on this island.

Fukami Shitaro might've been a piece of shit, but the guy had a damn good eye for real estate.

The island wasn't half bad—fresh water, solid terrain, easy to hold and a bitch to attack, and it could hold over a thousand people with plenty of room to spare.

Once the weather warmed up a little, Le Wuya stuffed a handful of grass seeds in his pocket and headed back to the island, picked a random bare patch and scattered them.

A few days later, he swung by to check, and the spot where he'd scattered the seeds was now a lush green patch of young sprouts.

Staring at the sprouts, Le Wuya's mind started clicking away like an abacus:

If the maritime ban gets lifted down the road, this island could take in a big population and serve as a trade hub.

If this island doesn't end up on the planned shipping lanes, putting up a watchtower or a signal fire station wouldn't hurt either.

Better than letting some other bastard grab it.

As for how he developed the island and handed it off to the next generation, how this once-unnamed island became Dayu's famous maritime bulwark and a bustling resupply port—well, that's a story for another day.

For now, Le Wuya just hung around on this barren island, telling the garrison troops to haul the surviving pirates back and send word they were safe, while having others tally up the loot. He poked around the island himself, stopping and starting, checking out every nook and cranny.

He burned a full three days on the island, doing nothing but drawing maps.

He wasn't worried one bit about what was going on back in Tongzhou.

Though there was still a little firecracker back at the yamen, probably about to blow a gasket, just waiting for him to come back so they could explode in his face.

So Le Wuya had someone deliver a letter to Xiang Zhi: "I've still got official business to handle and can't get back for a while. I'd ask the Special Envoy to mind his dignity—dignity, I say."

Three days later, one afternoon, Le Wuya was doodling with a piece of charcoal.

For convenience, he'd tied a red headband around his forehead.

Suddenly, a young garrison soldier came up to report: "Sir!"

Le Wuya didn't even turn around: "Talk."

The young soldier said, "Someone's here to see you."

"Who?"

The soldier hemmed and hawed, then answered, "A VIP."

Le Wuya thought, that little firecracker, coming all the way out here to set off on me.

Le Wuya said offhandedly, "Tell him I fell in the sea, tell him to come fish me out."

Sure enough, a gentle voice came from about three feet behind him: "I'm not much of a swimmer, so I'm afraid I won't be able to fish you out, sir."

Le Wuya nearly jumped out of his skin, spun around, and ran smack into Zhi Jie's warm, smiling eyes.

He clutched his chest, turned, and looked up at Zhi Jie: "How the hell did you just materialize out of thin air?!"

For some reason, Zhi Jie spoke at a leisurely, drawn-out pace: "Lately, I've made some headway in my cultivation, and I've picked up a trick or two in the Five Elements escape arts, so I can come and go without a trace."

"So how'd you end up here, anyway?"

The second the words left his mouth, Le Wuya suddenly remembered something, shot up, and pressed the back of his hand to Zhi Jie's forehead, and sure enough, felt a patch of cold, clammy sweat.

Le Wuya: "Aren't you scared of water... or is it seasickness... or what? Whatever, forget it—doesn't coming onto the island mess with you?"

Zhi Jie looked at his bandaged arm, wrapped up simple and plain: "If you're not hurting, sir, then I'm not either."

Le Wuya: "..."

Rarely ever at a loss for words, Le Wuya was stumped for a second. He casually handed the nearly finished island map to the young soldier, told him to "have Qin Xingyue finish it up later," then grabbed Zhi Jie and hustled over to the temporary dock, found a fast two-oared skiff, called over two burly garrison soldiers, and, with the sea calm and the tide not yet up, made a dash for the Tongzhou dock.

...

On the spring sea, the waves were flat and the breeze was soft; the blue water stretched out like silk, melting into the clear sky above.

But Zhi Jie was in no state to enjoy any of it.

He really couldn't handle the boat. He sat stiff and pale-faced for a while, then leaned over the rail and dry-heaved several times.

But nothing came up.

"I won't mess up your boat, sir," Zhi Jie said quietly. "I puked a few times before I came, so my stomach's already empty."

Le Wuya: "...You get seasick on a damn pleasure boat, and you still had the guts to get on an ocean-going ship?"

Not far off, gulls skimmed low over the water, and the clouds and sea stretched out wide.

Zhi Jie lowered his eyes and murmured, just loud enough for the two of them to hear: "...I missed you."

Le Wuya's heart gave a little lurch.

He was a simple guy, easily thrilled by a compliment.

But right now, that thrill climbing up from the base of his spine, buzzing with a tingly numbness, felt both foreign and weirdly familiar.

Le Wuya's oldest brother once said that, based on his research, humans and monkeys have a ton in common, so it's highly likely humans evolved from monkeys.

Le Wuya's second brother said that their Wuya was a hell of a swimmer, a famous water monkey in the capital's moat.

So, Le Wuya figured, maybe he really was descended from monkeys, and his tail just hadn't evolved away completely.

Otherwise, why would he get the urge to wag his tail every time he was happy?

Zhi Jie, clueless about Le Wuya's weird little tangent, went on, "Also, I owe you an apology."

Le Wuya pulled himself together and grinned: "What'd you do to wrong me? Let's hear it."

"When I heard about the big win at Tongzhou back in the capital, I figured you'd gone through all that danger for... for Scholar Ming. But once I cooled off, I realized that even though you're sharp, there's no way you could pull off some heaven-and-earth-level trick or see the future. Not trusting you completely—that's on me."

After listening to that whole self-flagellating speech, Le Wuya squinted at him: "That honest, huh?"

Zhi Jie replied, "With you, I should be straight."

At that, Le Wuya leaned in: "But who said it wasn't for him?"

Zhi Jie's breath hitched: "..."

Seeing he'd managed to crack that gentlemanly shell of his, Le Wuya was smug about it and wanted to press his advantage, tease him a little more, but when he saw there wasn't a lick of color left on those thin lips, his heart went soft before he could even open his mouth: "Fine, for him, and for me. ...But most of all, for you."

Zhi Jie's lashes fluttered: "Why?"

"Forget? I'm your pawn," Le Wuya said with a grin. "Serving you is only right."

"But you're hurt." Zhi Jie pointed at his own chest. "Just seeing you like this, sir, makes my chest feel tight and awful."

Le Wuya found his bluntness pretty damn amusing, and leaned in: "Then... if your chest is feeling tight and awful, how exactly am I supposed to serve you on that front?"

Zhi Jie looked at him and pressed his lips together again, saying nothing.

Le Wuya could see exactly what kind of dirty thoughts were running through his head, and without ceremony, flicked him on the forehead: "You, you—act like a proper master, will you?"

After scolding his student, he turned to his two men, his tone still smiling but with a subtle edge to it: "You two... don't play dumb with me. Just now, when you were sneaking looks, your eyeballs nearly rolled to the back of your skulls. Now you're playing at being quails?"

The two soldiers didn't dare say a word and rowed that boat like their lives depended on it.

Le Wuya tilted his head and asked, "When we get back, I'm not gonna hear any nasty rumors, am I?"

The two soldiers rowing nearly shook their heads clean off, spinning like windmills.

Truth was, seeing that the sir was getting on in years and still hadn't married, everyone had long been privately guessing at his tastes.

They just never figured the sir would be such a standout in this department too—say nothing when silent, but shock the world when he spoke; don't mess around when not messing around, but when he did, he went straight for a prince!

Still, with the sir being so brilliant and badass, even if he took a celestial being as his lover, it'd be a match made in heaven a thousand times over!

Having properly whipped his men into shape, Le Wuya pulled the meek, well-behaved Zhi Jie over, pressed his head against his shoulder, using his own body to prop him up: "If you feel like shit, don't tough it out."

Feeling the rigid body beside him go soft, leaning into his shoulder with trust, Le Wuya raised his hand: "I've heard old sailors say that when you're seasick, rubbing your ears helps."

With that, Le Wuya's fingers found the tip of Zhi Jie's ear, and the man gave a little shiver.

From there, Le Wuya traced the half-soft, half-firm cartilage of his ear with a gentle pressure, working his way slowly down to the soft lobe.

Cycle repeats.

Zhi Jie's ears were his most sensitive spot; with just that one touch, they flushed red from tip to lobe. Waves of tingling numbness surged through him like the Qiantang tide, prompting him to quietly slip the Taoist beads from his wrist into his palm, counting them one by one to steady his mind.

Several times, he couldn't help but pause, digging his fingertips into the sandalwood beads, his fingers trembling with excitement he couldn't control.

After another silent shudder, Zhi Jie spoke out of nowhere.

He said softly, "If the southern wind knew my heart... the setting sun slants, and the river brims with poetry."

Le Wuya glanced at him. "Oh, so you're a poet now. Where'd all this scholarly sentiment come from?"

Zhi Jie sighed softly.

Ever since he'd first met Le Wuya, his teacher had always been like this—clear-headed, untouched by love or attachment.

He was kind to people, purely and simply kind.

There were many things he probably didn't understand...

Before he could finish his thought, Le Wuya stopped caressing Zhi Jie's earlobe, reached up, took off his headband, and draped it over Zhi Jie's eyes.

Zhi Jie: "...?"

What does this mean?

But the next moment, he understood.

Through the red headband, the world before him was bathed in a warm crimson.

A thousand miles of sunset glow, ten thousand acres of evening light.

...With just a lift of his hand, Le Wuya had given him a sunset to soothe his heart.

Zhi Jie turned to look at him steadily.

Seen this way, even up close, Le Wuya's figure was still a bit blurred.

But Zhi Jie could see the faint smile at the corner of his mouth, his eyes like sparks of starlight.

Le Wuya coaxed him, "I know, I know. We'll dock soon. Just enjoy the view for now."

Zhi Jie tightened his grip on the Taoist beads, no longer counting them, afraid that the tender thoughts in his heart might reach the ears of the Three Pure Ones.

...All the splendor of the world, nothing more than this.

Author's note:

A Yaya who knows how to love well √