Chapter 342: A Small Gathering (Part 2)

By the time the breeze turned chilly and the sun slanted westward, as the group packed up to head back, Mrs. He was still thinking about retrieving Le Wuya's failed kite.

Le Wuya sat lazily on the carriage, chin propped on his hand: "No need, just leave it."

Mrs. He and Mrs. Yang exchanged a look.

The young lord sure has a childish streak.

And so, that big crow-shaped kite was just left there, abandoned.

After autumn set in, darkness came early.

Before long, as dusk darkened, Jiang He furtively poked his head out and grabbed Le Wuya's kite.

Jiang He had been watching from the shadows for a good while.

He also wanted to fly kites with the young general and Qin Xingyue.

But he was now a guard at Prince Qing's mansion, so it really wasn't easy for him to get close.

The Sixth Prince had given him two tasks. First, protect the young general and his family, in case some reckless idiot with no sense of self-preservation tried to spy on them or pull something during the family's autumn outing.

Second, whatever the young general left behind, he was to bring it back to him.

Jiang He figured they must have some kind of deal, so he eagerly asked: "What will the young lord leave for you, Your Highness? I'll keep an eye out."

"Anything's fine."

Jiang He didn't get it, so he pressed on: "Your Highness, is it a letter? Or something else? If it's something important, the young lord might have buried it, and I'd have to dig it up. Could you tell me roughly what it looks like, so I know what to look for?"

Ru Feng rolled his eyes next to him.

Zhi Jie ignored Ru Feng and answered patiently: "I mean, anything's fine."

Jiang He still didn't get it and kept guessing: "Is it a gift? But there's no festival coming up, and you're not old enough for the Double Ninth Festival... Then it must be a letter?"

Maybe from rolling his eyes so hard his head hurt, Ru Feng finally couldn't hold it in anymore: "Your Highness, he's already slow as it is—stop messing with him!"

He turned to Jiang He and translated: "His Highness means it doesn't matter what it is—even half a leftover pastry, he'd want to keep it."

With that, Ru Feng turned back and spread his hands toward Zhi Jie.

Zhi Jie graciously thanked him for the accurate translation: "Thanks. But Jiang He isn't slow."

Pleased by the compliment, Jiang He promptly forgot how weird this task was: "Yes. Jiang He understands."

Though he didn't know why the Sixth Prince would want even the young lord's leftover pastries, if the Sixth Prince asked, there must be some deeper meaning he hadn't figured out yet.

...

Jiang He tried to tuck the kite into his robes.

But the kite was way too big to hide, and carrying it all the way back into the city would be way too conspicuous.

So Jiang He, working in the dark, tore the kite apart without a second thought.

Luckily, the kite was made entirely of soft materials—the paper and bamboo strips were all easy to hide.

He could just glue it back together when he got home.

Jiang He thought simply, so after returning to report his mission, he didn't quite understand why Zhi Jie's smile seemed a bit forced, while Ru Feng looked like he was enjoying the show.

Zhi Jie suppressed his feelings and said politely: "Guard Jiang, you've worked hard."

Ru Feng pursed his lips and said: "Guard Jiang has worked way too hard."

Zhi Jie added: "Ru Feng, prepare some gifts for Consort Zhuang. We're going to the palace tomorrow."

At that, Ru Feng's face immediately dropped.

He hated going to the palace more than anything else.

Every time he went, he first had to accompany Zhi Jie to Imperial Consort Zhuang's quarters to get scolded, then rack his brains for a reasonable excuse to slip away, visit his adoptive father, and report on Zhi Jie's doings at the mansion.

Not to mention there was always a third pair of ears listening in, so he couldn't freely vent to his adoptive father about how utterly insufferable the Sixth Prince was.

...And he had to sing his praises, too.

Absolutely unbearable.

At the thought of all the hardships of going to the palace, Ru Feng immediately shut up, grimacing as he slunk out with Jiang He.

But just as he was about to step out the door, Zhi Jie called out from behind him: "Do you have any idea what they'll ask this time?"

Ru Feng naturally knew: "Nothing more than how you've been behaving since you got the princedom."

"And what do you plan to say?"

"I'll tell the truth. You don't really care anyway." Ru Feng leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, calmly studying Zhi Jie. "But do you really plan to just take it like this?"

Before Ru Feng was castrated to enter the palace, he'd been a carefree young master from an official family, much like Yuan Zijin, but more ambitious and sharper than him.

Aside from being born with a sharp tongue and a big mouth, he had no real faults.

But someone in his family had committed a crime punishable by the extermination of three generations of the family.

The culprit really deserved to die.

But as one of the unlucky souls in those three generations, he was completely wronged.

Because he was under fourteen, he kept his life, entered the palace, served the nobility, and atoned for a crime that was vague and never truly existed.

He was deeply resentful and angry.

But he hid all his feelings behind a capable exterior—smiling at everyone, spouting lucky words at the drop of a hat, determined to be the most outstanding eunuch of them all.

In truth, he was full of resentment.

He didn't want to say nice things to please anyone, period.

Whenever his master took out anger on him, he'd smile on the surface while thinking that sooner or later, he'd find a chance to kill him.

Xue Jie keenly noticed his resentment and didn't want him to suppress himself so painfully, so he found a chance to recommend him out of the palace, sending him to serve beside the prince who seemed the most peaceful, detached, and mild-tempered of them all.

Ru Feng and Zhi Jie had a long battle of wills.

But in the end, the reason he decided to side with Zhi Jie was actually quite simple. Zhi Jie could genuinely tolerate his resentment, his complaints, and his unfiltered mouth.

For Ru Feng, that was more than enough.

He'd already had more than his share of bad luck in this life; being able to run his mouth was a rare stroke of luck.

Sure enough, even with Ru Feng being that rude, Zhi Jie didn't get angry.

He knew Ru Feng had skills.

And skills were good.

A man with real talent and a bit of a temper wasn't a bad thing—it made him more lively and interesting.

This was a lesson his teacher had taught by example, an aesthetic Le Wuya had personally cultivated.

Zhi Jie shot back, "Then tell me, what should I do?"

"I don't know. If I could tell you what to do, my lord, wouldn't I be the lord instead?"

Ru Feng shrugged and said with a sour tone, "You're lucky, my lord. Prince Hui's a good man. Even if you fought him for it, once he took the throne, he wouldn't hold a grudge. Worst case, after he wins, he'd just show off a little in front of you."

Zhi Jie smiled faintly. "Yeah, my luck's pretty good."

With that, he reached out and touched the completely dismantled kite wrapped in blue cloth in front of him.

Ru Feng: "..."

I'm saying you're lucky to have a rival like the Fifth Prince, thanks a lot.

But he had a rough idea what Zhi Jie meant: "He's back. So you think, with him around, that's enough?"

When Zhi Jie didn't respond, Ru Feng nodded. "Understood. Need some paste, my lord? I'll go get it."

"Go on."

After Jiang He and Ru Feng left, Zhi Jie pressed his lips together, his fingers trailing gently over the kite pieces Jiang He had wrapped so carefully.

"No," Zhi Jie muttered to himself. "None of you got what he meant."

"The Fifth Brother won't make it to that position."

But the plan wasn't fully in motion yet, so there was no point in talking about it.

The most important thing was that his teacher's kite was broken.

Zhi Jie sighed softly and lifted the blue cloth.

When he unwrapped it, the first thing he saw was a playful line:

"Knew you couldn't stand to leave it wrapped..."

Zhi Jie sat up straight.

These words were written on the crow kite's central frame, right in the most obvious spot.

Zhi Jie carefully, almost reverently, pulled out the overly long bamboo splint bit by bit.

"...A specially made kite that can't fly, a little tune, a small gift, given to you in exchange for a bit of a smile, to ease the autumn days."

This main spine held up the crow's long, phoenix-like tail.

And on the interwoven bamboo frame inside, red thread was wound around, and between the crossbars, a lighthearted little poem was written:

Let out the long line, like threads of longing twined

Send a letter to the clouds, afraid the mandarin ducks will laugh

Look at the bamboo bones and silk edges

Already tied with red threads for a hundred years of joy

Tying my very soul tight

Don't laugh at the paper kite's light frame

It carries those vows of three lives

Into your arms

Not into the nine skies

Nine bamboo splints, all written full of longing.

In what used to be the kite's belly, there was also a small six-sided box shaped like a paper drum.

Zhi Jie carefully opened it and found a lively origami bird inside, pitch black all over, except for a pair of white eyes squinting slyly—clearly a crow.

It was perched on the shoulder of a little paper figure.

The figure had a bright, cheerful smile on its face.

Zhi Jie looked away.

Compared to the only smiling wooden figurine in the woodcarving piece called "Great Shelter for All the Cold Scholars" that sat in the most prominent spot in Zhi Jie's study, this little figure's smile was far more radiant.

Le Wuya's crow kite was a grand, lively love letter.

...

Outside, Ru Feng had grabbed Jiang He and was once again badmouthing Zhi Jie left and right. Satisfied, he was about to leave when he suddenly heard a door slam loud enough to make him jump.

Zhi Jie strode out.

Ru Feng was so startled he bit his tongue.

While he was in pain, Jiang He asked for him: "Sixth Prince, what's wrong?"

Zhi Jie's ears and cheeks were flushed a delicate red, but his tone was unmistakably firm: "Guard Jiang, I'd like you to take me to the Wen Ren residence."

Ru Feng, forgetting the pain in his tongue, immediately urged in a muffled voice: "My lord, can't you hold off? Does it have to be today? There are still people watching around the Wen Ren residence!"

"It has to be today." Zhi Jie asked Jiang He, "Can you do it without anyone noticing?"

Jiang He blinked. "Yes."

...

As Le Wuya bent over his desk writing up Wang Su's closing report, a gentle knock came at the window lattice outside.

The rhythm of the knock was both familiar and polite.

Le Wuya thought for a moment—there was no one in his household who made a habit of coming through the window.

He set down his brush, and before he even saw who it was, a smile had already crept onto his face. "Come in."

The window was pushed open from outside.

Starlight poured in like flowing water, spilling over the windowsill and blanketing the desk.

Even though he'd half-expected it, seeing Zhi Jie's handsome face appear at the window still caught him off guard. "What are you doing here this late?"

He didn't ask how Zhi Jie had slipped past the prying eyes and ears outside.

If he could make it to his side, then he could certainly handle such minor details.

Le Wuya trusted him.

Zhi Jie's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing clearly still uneven. "...Came to see you, Teacher."

Le Wuya let out an "ah," teasing him on purpose. "Are you here to see me, or to miss me?"

Zhi Jie had come specifically to ask a question: "Teacher, how did you know I'd definitely go get that kite you left for me?"

But what if someone else had picked it up?

Zhi Jie couldn't bear to think about it—just the thought made his heart ache.

Le Wuya rested his arms on the windowsill, smiling warmly as he looked up at him, and countered, "You wouldn't pick up something of mine?"

Zhi Jie was nearly driven frantic by the thought, his voice rising a notch. "What if I just didn't go get it?"

What if Jiang He couldn't get away and didn't have time to go to the outskirts?

What if the Changmen Guard... or some unrelated person had beaten you to it and taken it?

Le Wuya hadn't expected Zhi Jie to care this much, and couldn't help his surprise. "What does it matter if someone else picked it up? I didn't write it to anyone in particular—whoever finds it, it's theirs."

So what if the Changmen Guard picked it up?

What, was he not allowed to pour out his longing?

Zhi Jie was momentarily choked with frustration, and for a moment it felt like an old wound had reopened, leaving him unable to speak in full sentences.

He was determined to get an answer: "Teacher, what if I never even... never even saw it? What then?"

Seeing how stubborn he was, Le Wuya found it even funnier. "If you didn't see it, I'd just prepare another one for you. What's so hard about that?"

Zhi Jie stared at him steadily, the fingers hanging at his sides trembling slightly.

The base of his fingers was linked to his heart, sending waves of breathtaking, heart-racing tingles through him.

Even though he had known his teacher for many, many years, there was always some moment when he would fall in love with him all over again.

He said in a low voice, "But today isn't any special occasion."

"Do I need to pick an auspicious day or a fine festival to love you?" Le Wuya was genuinely puzzled. "If I want to write you a letter, I write it. I—"

A hand gently pressed against the back of his head, cutting off his unfinished words.

Zhi Jie, across the window, kissed his teacher.

If he let him keep talking so openly like that, Zhi Jie was afraid he'd never be able to bring himself to leave tonight.