WJ Chapter 134

Wild Vines in the Field (1)

Wild vines spread across the field, dew drops gather in abundance.

 A beauty stands there, graceful and clear-eyed. 

——

Ever since that night, Yun Changliu’s feelings had quietly shifted once more.

These “wicked thoughts” even alarmed himself, and he certainly couldn’t let them show before the Protector — he feared that if he provoked Guan Wujue’s disgust, even this within-reach closeness between them would be lost.

Yun Changliu could only suppress those improper thoughts, secretly and carefully keeping this thread of feeling hidden, while continuing to dote on the Protector openly and aboveboard. When the urge struck him he would casually pull the man over for an embrace, and once satisfied would let go as if nothing had happened — this sort of quiet daily life was actually quite nourishing.

Yet Guan Wujue was not truly unaware of any of it.

This was Yun Changliu, after all — the Sect Leader’s every smallest secret thought was something Guan Wujue longed to catch entirely in the palm of his hand. Now that Yun Changliu was so openly indulging him, how could Guan Wujue feel nothing at all?

And how could he… feel not even a trace of longing?

Yun Changliu’s wicked thoughts amounted only to wanting to hold the Protector close openly and aboveboard. Guan Wujue’s wicked thoughts were something far more dangerous — the wild words from his childhood, long since buried in the earth, were utterly treasonous even if only a fraction were dug back up.

Yun Changliu was unsettled; Guan Wujue was actually even more unsettled than he was. After countless late nights of tossing and turning, tangled in contradiction, Guan Wujue had somehow arrived at exactly the same approach as the Sect Leader.

Leave it unspoken. Muddle through the days for now.

If the Sect Leader held him, he leaned in; if the Sect Leader was willing to indulge him, he accepted that affection; if the Sect Leader had a whim to test him with words, he could naturally tease the Sect Leader in return from time to time.

Only he still did not dare to overstep at will — he took it merely as stealing a little warmth to comfort this body of his. He feared that if some change came one day, he might not even have the standing to retreat with his whole self intact, to withdraw behind Yun Changliu and become a Yin Ghost.

…And so it came to be that by the time the romance between the Sect Leader and the Protector in Xifeng City had spread throughout the jianghu, the two parties at the center of it were still standing there, hesitating to move forward.

One burying his head in the sand, the other fishing in murky waters — quietly testing each other’s line, now and then crossing a little and immediately pulling back, then the other crossing a little and pulling back again… It was, in its own way, a kind of unspoken understanding.

Fortunately, neither of them was the sort who knew only how to think of romance. Yun Changliu had spent these years exhausting himself to the marrow pulling Zhuyin Sect back from the path of a demon sect laden with enemies, while Guan Wujue, as the Four Directions Protector of Zhuyin Sect, spent the better part of half a year out traveling when tallied up over any given year.

When affairs both within and outside the Sect truly came crashing down on them, neither had the luxury to linger on tender feelings. Yet the wordless tacit understanding flowing between them, the mutual admiration rising from the depths of their hearts — sometimes this moved them even more than simple physical closeness.

And so, the days continued to pass, one by one.

……

On the barren road at the foot of Mount Shenlie stood a tavern called Yuan Lai.

At dawn today, a guest arrived — the handsome red-robed Protector of Zhuyin Sect. His red-maned horse was tied outside, and the guest carried with him the cold of a night’s hard riding as he entered.

What a pity that when he stepped inside the sky was still a murky grey, concealing the distinguished guest’s fine looks and his striking ink-plum red robes. The tavern owner Du Si’er happened to be absent, and the young attendant minding the shop in his place had no eye for such things — seeing only what appeared to be an ordinary martial artist walking in with head bowed, the attendant rubbed his barely-awake eyes and called out. “The shop isn’t open yet — if you want wine, please wait a moment!”

The guest paused, then asked, “Where is your owner?”

The attendant said, “He’s gone back to his hometown — won’t be back for seven or eight days.”

Guan Wujue gave a light laugh, said “Very well, I’ll wait,” and went upstairs to sit on his own.

The Four Directions Protector had taken leave from the Sect Leader at the end of winter to depart from the Sect. This time he’d run into some troublesome matters and spent nearly three months going back and forth before he could return — it was now spring.

The time had been rather long, and he found himself missing the Sect Leader. He had pressed himself hard along the return journey. He’d originally intended to eat a few bites and buy a jug of wine here before moving on, but the timing had turned out to be inconvenient. Had Du Si’er been present, he certainly would not have dared to slight him. Since the owner was away, there was little point in using his identity to frighten a mere shop attendant — and there was every chance the boy wouldn’t even believe him.

Guan Wujue could only sit upstairs and wait for his wine. Before long he grew bored. He lay down on the table, meaning to rest with his eyes closed, and before he knew it he had drifted off.

By the time he woke, the sky was bright with full daylight. The early spring sunlight fell warmly across the corners of Guan Wujue’s eyes and brows, and the wine had already been set on the table.

The red-robed Protector blinked his eyes languidly, had just reached out for the wine, when he heard the rapid striking of a storyteller’s wooden block downstairs, and someone declaiming in a loud, sing-song voice.

Guan Wujue, half-drowsy, caught the words “Zhuyin Sect Leader” and couldn’t help curving his lips into a smile. He thought to himself, some scholar must have written a new script about the time the Sect Leader broke through the joint siege of the Three Sects and Five Orders.

Those stories praised his Sect Leader like a celestial being descended from beyond the heavens — the Four Directions Protector actually loved listening to them enormously. The more exaggerated, the better he liked it. So these days when he went to inspect the branch halls, those branch hall masters had grown clever: they no longer sent women to him, but instead found theater troupes and storytellers to tell the Protector the stories he loved hearing.

Guan Wujue was easy to please in this way — amused, he’d give a great laugh, and on small matters he’d extend those branch hall masters a few favors. His only requirement was that Sect Leader Yun must never find out about this little fondness of his.

But today seemed somehow different. Guan Wujue had been preparing to eavesdrop on a few passages before leaving — yet as he listened on, his expression grew more and more peculiar.

The content was unmistakably…

The Zhuyin Sect Leader and the Four Directions Protector’s…

Well. A romantic entanglement.

Guan Wujue had known that people in the jianghu were fabricating stories about him and the Sect Leader, but he hadn’t imagined he would ever hear it with his own ears. And the writing was this… explicit…

The problem was — how far was Yuan Lai Tavern from Xifeng City!

Did this storyteller have a death wish!?

Hua Wan — what was Hua Wan’s Information Hall even doing!?

Guan Wujue listened a few moments more, and finally could no longer keep a straight face. He burst out laughing, and then simply buried his face on the table, shoulders shaking without stop. In the end the Protector slapped the table and stood up, pulled off his far-too-conspicuous ink-plum red robes and stuffed them into his pack, then strode downstairs in great steps.

The storyteller was quite young — a fine-looking scholar in plain clothes, holding a book in one hand and the wooden clapper in the other, spittle flying freely as he reached the most exciting passages.

A good crowd had already gathered around, listening with rapt attention — even some strapping men among them had their faces flushed red.

…Protector Guan truly could not bear this scene.

He had no wish to listen further either. Face cold, he strode up to the storyteller in a few quick steps and slammed his fist down on the table with a bang.

The scholar gave a start, face going white, assuming someone had come to break up the act. His fingers slackened and the book fell to the floor. Trembling, he managed, “This… this honored guest…”

But then Guan Wujue suddenly gave a warm smile, bent down, picked up the script the scholar had dropped, gave it a little wave, and said:

“This script of yours — is it for sale?”

……

On Mount Shenlie, Guan Wujue rode Liuhuo’er, following the mountain path upward at an unhurried pace, and from far away caught sight of those familiar vermilion flying eaves.

Ten li outside Xifeng City there was a red pavilion. Seeing it meant one was very close to Xifeng City. And now, the branches above the pavilion roof were full of blooming peach blossoms; below them, a figure in white robes sat quietly, the red-gold Candle Dragon pattern gleaming brilliantly in the spring sunlight.

It was Yun Changliu, waiting for him.

Though he had long grown accustomed to such a sight, Guan Wujue still felt a warmth rise in his chest.

He couldn’t remember when it had started, but every time he returned to the Sect from a long journey, the Sect Leader would always listen to the Yin Ghosts’ reports and read through his letters, calculate the timing himself, and then sit beneath this red pavilion without fail to wait for him.

He had advised him many times to stop. But the Sect Leader said he waited because he wished to, and no amount of persuasion would move him.

The small pavilion drew gradually nearer. Guan Wujue swung down from his horse, red robes billowing, and walked over quickly with a smile, his boots pressing into the soft layer of green grass beneath.

Yun Changliu spotted him at once, rose and stepped forward to receive him — and before the Protector could bow in greeting, took both of his hands in his own and said earnestly, “Come, sit. How was the journey — was everything safe?”

Guan Wujue no longer stood on formality, only gave a slight bow of his head and said, “All went smoothly. I trust the Sect Leader is well.”

The wind passed through, and a few peach blossom petals spun through the space between the two of them. The red and white hems of their robes were caught by the wind and tangled together, then came apart.

Yun Changliu held Guan Wujue’s wrist and led the Protector toward the pavilion, his brow and eyes softening into warmth. “You were away too long this time. This lord missed you greatly. Were you injured anywhere?”

“If I had injuries on my person, with the Sect Leader’s internal energy — how could I possibly hide it from you?”

Guan Wujue shook his head with a smile, and seeing a wine jar and cups arranged on the stone table beneath the pavilion, along with some delicate refreshments, said, “Is this wine the Sect Leader’s reunion gift to me?”

Yun Changliu inclined his head, pressed Guan Wujue down into a seat, rested his hand on the Protector’s shoulder and said, “Of course.”

He could easily have called it a celebration feast, yet Wujue had called it a reunion gift instead — this pleased Sect Leader Yun a little. He raised his sleeve to pour wine for the Protector newly returned from afar, filling the small cup to the brim, when out of the corner of his eye he suddenly noticed Guan Wujue looking at him with a gaze that was inexplicably anticipatory, bright and gleaming.

The next moment, Guan Wujue called out softly, “Sect Leader…”

Yun Changliu was puzzled. “Hm?”

Guan Wujue drew a small booklet from his breast, expression gentle, and said, “Wujue has also brought you a gift.”

“This is… a book?”

Yun Changliu was intrigued. He reached out to take it. “Let this lord see?”

“Of course it’s for the Sect Leader to see,” said Guan Wujue — but then he suddenly tucked the book behind his back again, his dark eyes deep and unreadable. “Only you must first promise Wujue one thing.”

Yun Changliu continued to gaze at the Protector in baffled puzzlement, a faint trace of confusion floating across that refined, elegant face, which was rendered as white and clean as snow-silk in the sunlight.

Guan Wujue barely suppressed a laugh — it rose to his lips and he immediately reined it in. Maintaining perfect composure, he patted the cover of the book and said:

“This book isn’t very long. Would the Sect Leader read it aloud here for Wujue — just once?”

The moment Yun Changliu heard him say this, he sensed at once that something was very much afoot. Wujue had surely dug a pit for him to step into.

What a pity that Sect Leader Yun was of a most guileless nature, unsuspecting of the treacherous depths of human hearts in this world — his thinking went: what does reading a few words amount to? At worst the book contained some crude passage that would embarrass this ordinarily cold-faced Sect Leader of Zhuyin Sect to read aloud. Nothing more than that.

The Sect Leader gave an inward smile and a private shake of his head. He thought: No matter. Wujue has come back from a long and arduous journey. If it could make the Protector laugh and smile, what did a little embarrassment matter?

And so Yun Changliu took the book, quietly rubbed a page between his fingers — it was a thin volume, surely not one that would take too long to read. He felt all the more at ease, and said, “Very well.”

Guan Wujue smiled in silence, saying nothing.