WJ Chapter 135

Wild Vines in the Fields (2)

Yun Changliu then sat down across from Guan Wujue, smoothed his sleeves, and with slender fingertips turned open a page of the booklet, parting his lips in an unhurried voice to read aloud. “Last time we left off at…”

Then his voice caught.

Yun Changliu could read ten lines at a glance; in the brief moment his lips had only formed five words, his eyes had already swept over the contents of the entire page.

——Last time we left off: the Zhuyin Sect Leader had entered the peach grove, and found the Protector drunk and leaning against a peach tree, his face powdered pale and lips red as vermilion, ink-black hair in disarray, his red robes half-open — what an intoxicating and alluring sight.

——Sect Leader Yun’s heart stirred and his eyes swam; he passed through the cascading shadows of blossoms, pulled the Protector into his arms and embraced him, calling out with tender feeling: “So Protector was here all along — why have you been hiding from this lord…”

On the other side of the stone table, Guan Wujue drained the fine wine Yun Changliu had poured for him in one go, and gazed with great amusement at the Sect Leader whose expression had suddenly turned quite dreadful. “Where did you get to?”

Yun Changliu snapped his head up. The taut muscles of his cheeks had flushed a faint red; the fingers gripping the booklet trembled slightly. After a long moment, he flung the book down onto the stone table and rebuked in a low voice, “Outrageous!”

Guan Wujue, whose scheme had succeeded perfectly, could no longer hold back a burst of laughter. His eyes danced with mischief, his bright and clear laughter rippling in wave after wave. “Why don’t you go on reading?”

He knew perfectly well that Yun Changliu couldn’t. The storybook came in separate volumes, and the particular volume the Protector had bought from the storyteller happened to be the most scandalous of them all — it opened straightaway with the Zhuyin Sect Leader and the Four Directions Protector being sickeningly affectionate with each other.

Given Yun Changliu’s temperament, how could he possibly utter those salacious words in the presence of their very subject?

Sure enough, the Sect Leader shot abruptly to his feet, pointed at Guan Wujue with an unsteady breath — it was unclear whether from fury or from embarrassment — “You, the dignified Four Directions Protector of the Zhuyin Sect, how could you read this sort of—”

But the more Yun Changliu reacted like this, the more that little streak of mischief in the Protector’s heart stirred and itched. Guan Wujue poured himself another cup of wine, pinched the rim of the cup, and shot the Sect Leader a sidelong glance — a few threads of bewitching intent instantly arose:

“Sect Leader, those words are mistaken. How could this subordinate possibly not read ‘this sort’ of thing? Rather, it’s you — you promised you would read it to Wujue once… are you going to read it or not?”

Yun Changliu turned his head to the side, attempting to hide the flush on his face. “Not reading.”

Guan Wujue said, “You’re going back on your word.”

Yun Changliu forced himself to appear calm, neither speaking nor looking at the Protector, simply keeping his head turned away, fixing his gaze on the riotous peach blossoms blooming outside the red pavilion.

Guan Wujue had been roused into a playful mood and had no intention of letting it go. He swapped to a fresh cup, poured wine into it once more, and raised it toward Yun Changliu from a distance — then swung one long leg up and stepped directly onto the stone table, then smoothly dropped to his knees facing Yun Changliu’s direction. “Sect Leader breaks his word. How about a cup of wine as forfeit?”

Another peach blossom was blown loose by the wind. Guan Wujue held the cup out, and the pale pink flower drifted silently down into the wine, stirring a ring of soft ripples.

The red-robed Protector knelt on the stone table, his face wreathed in smiles. “Come then, Sect Leader?”

The two of them were suddenly very close. Yun Changliu could even feel Guan Wujue’s breath ghosting faintly, indistinctly, across his face. The Sect Leader shifted back in discomfort and frowned. “You’ve already been drinking before this.”

That was true enough — the Protector had indeed drunk quite a lot of strong liquor at the Yuan Lai Tavern, and partly on account of that, he was considerably bolder than usual today.

Guan Wujue’s eyes shimmered with a bright gleam. He actually reached out and slowly hooked his hand around the back of Yun Changliu’s neck, drawing the Sect Leader toward him, and said with great amusement. “If you won’t read, how about Wujue reads it to you instead?”

The other hand, the one holding the wine cup, lowered; with his little finger, he flicked up the cover of the booklet that the Sect Leader had thrown onto the table and casually turned a few pages. Guan Wujue’s gaze wandered, and he deliberately pressed his voice low and husky:

“…Sect Leader Yun was overcome with joy, and promptly called for aged vintage wine to be brought. In a moment the wine was set before them on the table; Protector Guan took the wine in his mouth and drew the Sect Leader into his arms, tilting his neck to feed it to him. The two entangled lips and tongues and wine, kissing until they burned all over, passion running rampant…”

Reading this far, Guan Wujue couldn’t help but let out a small laugh himself. He brought the wine cup up to Yun Changliu’s lips, tilted his head, and deliberately teased. “Sect Leader — in this storybook, you are quite willing to drink with Wujue in merry intoxication. As for the taste of what’s in this cup, will you truly not try it?”

Yun Changliu went rigid in every limb; his thin lips trembled and parted several times as though on the verge of speaking, yet not a single word came out. He had always been a man of tranquil and few desires — how could he possibly endure being provoked like this? With just a few words, Guan Wujue could throw his heartbeat into chaos and leave his mind in total disarray.

Guan Wujue leaned forward further still, nearly close enough to press his neck against Yun Changliu’s — and yet in doing so, he himself was suddenly struck momentarily dazed.

The truth was that Guan Wujue had thought Yun Changliu extraordinarily beautiful since he was small — not only in appearance, but even more so in bearing. It was a beauty like ice and snow, like cloud and mist — in any case, a beauty untouched by the living breath of the world, as though separated from the smoke and fire of ordinary life by some thin, imperceptible layer.

The young Ah Ku had adored him deeply, and at the same time had ached for him deeply. Perhaps it was for this reason that he had always been unable to help himself from finding every manner of way to stir up trouble for the Young Sect Leader.

And now… now the Four Directions Protector Guan Wujue was the same.

The more he looked at Yun Changliu like that — flustered and mortified — the more inexplicably delighted he felt inside. It was as though he had cast a net woven of mortal desires and earthly passions to catch a celestial immortal, and had pulled him down from the clouds, pulled him right here before himself.

“Cough… cough, cough…”

Guan Wujue had slipped into a momentary reverie, and in that moment Yun Changliu had already swallowed a mouthful of wine — now frowning and covering his mouth as he choked again and again.

That wine had been prepared as something fiery and strong for the Protector. Yun Changliu had never touched alcohol from childhood to now; in a moment of distraction, he had somehow truly raised it to his lips and drunk, and instantly felt a scorching rush surge up his throat, his whole body blazing hot all at once, his legs going soft beneath him.

“Sect Leader!” Guan Wujue had only meant to tease the Sect Leader a little. He hadn’t anticipated that Yun Changliu would actually open his mouth and drink without a word of protest, and now looked on the verge of toppling over — done in by a single cup. Startled and amused in equal measure, he quickly flipped off the stone table to steady him. “Are you all right? Did you choke?”

Yun Changliu pressed a hand to his forehead and steadied himself on his own. The mouthful of strong liquor had left him somewhat lightheaded; he said in a muffled tone, “It burns terribly… it doesn’t taste good.”

Guan Wujue let out a helpless laugh. Seeing that Yun Changliu was still clear-headed, he felt somewhat relieved. He dared not press the Sect Leader to drink again; he promptly drained the remaining wine in the cup himself, then casually pinched up the peach blossom that had been left behind in the emptied cup, and turned back to flipping through the booklet for his own amusement.

Yun Changliu suddenly said with a deep frown, “Stop reading.”

Guan Wujue was in the full swing of it and had no intention of listening. He simply sat himself down on the stone table, one leg raised up nonchalantly, and raised an eyebrow at Yun Changliu with a teasing air:

“No. I won’t. Just look at this — the Zhuyin Sect Leader in this storybook is far more interesting than you! He demands kisses, he solicits affection, he even speaks sweet words! Why don’t you take a leaf out of his book?”

With that, the Four Directions Protector began reading aloud again at his own leisure in a bright, carrying voice:

“…Sect Leader Yun, overcome with tender feeling, tore open Protector Guan’s collar and forcibly pressed him down onto the table, moving in to kiss him. Protector Guan flushed crimson with shame and indignation, his cheeks stained red as sunset clouds, struggling unceasingly with both hands; the Zhuyin Sect Leader simply bore down upon him…”

“Ha — what nonsense! If the Sect Leader were going to do whatever he pleased with Wujue, how would this subordinate dare ‘struggle unceasingly’? Wouldn’t you say?”

“But there upon the white stone table lay spread the crimson red robes, and beneath those red robes was skin like white snow; black hair unfurling, entangled with the ink-dark plum blossoms that covered the robes in full—” Tsk tsk, just who do they think this Protector is, to write him up as some incomparable beauty? Sect Leader, doesn’t that strike you as funny?”

“…The two tumbled into closeness again and again; their robes had already slipped from their shoulders of their own accord. Sect Leader Yun, unable to contain his urgency, untied the Protector’s sash, reached a hand in—” Cough, mm, hmm… perhaps we’ll leave off reading this part for now.”

The warm sun melted softly over everything; beams of light spilled down along the upswept eaves of the pavilion, cutting the stone table diagonally into patches of light and shadow. Guan Wujue sat on the stone table, his robes likewise divided into vivid bright-red and deep dark-red. He read a passage and laughed at a passage; from time to time he even offered a remark or two, thoroughly delighting in himself.

Yun Changliu could have died of shame and indignation. The more Guan Wujue laughed like that, the more his heart burned and raced without reason. He knew perfectly well it was crude nonsense made up by some outsider — and yet those words conjured scenes that made one’s face flush and heart race, and even merely letting his thoughts brush against them was enough to make him wish he could faint dead away.

One page read through, Guan Wujue was about to turn to the next, still unsatisfied, the peach blossom still pinched between two fingers.

Yun Changliu suddenly stepped forward two paces, expression grave, reached out, and slowly seized the lapel of Guan Wujue’s dark-red robes.

Guan Wujue closed the booklet with a snap, surprised. “What, are you actually going to try it?”

Yun Changliu fixed his gaze on him, holding that slightly ambiguous posture, making no further move.

A strange, taut silence suddenly entered the air between them.

Only now did Guan Wujue cool down a little. He thought to himself that perhaps the wine really had gone to his head and he’d been carrying the teasing too far — he was just preparing to rein it in, at worst to coax the Sect Leader into forgiving him with a proper apology.

Yun Changliu’s face was calm and expressionless, yet his gaze held a barely-concealed scorching heat. Without warning, he lifted one knee and stepped up onto the stone table.

Guan Wujue was just about to say something when the hand gripping his lapel suddenly wrenched hard.

The Protector, completely unprepared, was shoved straight down onto his back on the stone table.

A tremendous clatter rang out — the wine flask and cups were knocked off and crashed to the ground, shards and droplets scattering in all directions. Guan Wujue felt the world spin violently; even his hair and lashes seemed to catch tiny droplets of liquid.

And then his eyes filled with the sight of the vermilion pavilion eaves directly above him.

Beyond the eave-tips, a pale blue and boundless sky.

The sky was bright and clear; birdsong trilled in the distance.

Peach blossoms drifted and swirled in the wind; spring filled the red pavilion to overflowing.

Then into his field of vision came robes of white bearing dragon patterns, cool and delicate brows and eyes — a face carved into the marrow of his memory.

The moment Yun Changliu leaned down over him, Guan Wujue’s mind went hazy. He felt Yun Changliu’s breath suddenly envelop him completely, and at last settle lightly against his lips — soft and warm, a very shallow, very gentle kiss.

In this moment the spring light ceased to shine; the flowing breeze ceased to flow. In this moment the wine drops ceased to fall; the falling blossoms ceased to fall. All things fell still, all things fell silent — even the heartbeats and breathing of the two of them seemed to stop.

Guan Wujue’s thoughts reeled and trembled. He suddenly found himself at a loss. He thought he must be dreaming — yet he knew with perfect clarity that this was not a dream; and yet though it clearly was not a dream, it was even harder to accept than a dream.

The Sect Leader had kissed him.

The Sect Leader had kissed him again.

The last time seemed to have been nine years ago.

…No — that’s not right.

The last time, it had clearly been Young Sect Leader Changliu kissing his Ah Ku.

What did that have to do with him — with Guan Wujue?

And yet now, at this very moment, the Sect Leader was still kissing him.

The flood of memory left Guan Wujue’s eyes swimming — but before he could muster even the slightest rejection or response, the warmth against his lips vanished in an instant, and the weight pressing upon him swiftly withdrew.

Guan Wujue blinked, dazed. He swayed and propped himself halfway up; his loosened hair spilled down across the stone table.

And a few steps away, Yun Changliu was staring at him in horrified bewilderment, his face drained white, his whole body trembling.

The Sect Leader stepped back two unsteady paces, raising one hand — as if to point at the Protector, or as if to cover his own lips — and said in a shaking voice. “You — I — this lord just now—”

Guan Wujue: “…”

For a moment, Guan Wujue carefully thought back over exactly who had just pinned whom down on a table and kissed them forcibly.

He thought it over, concluded that he had been the one wronged — and called out softly, “Sect Leader…”

Yun Changliu’s breathing broke apart. As though unable to bear it, he closed his eyes and shook his head, forcing out with great difficulty. “This lord — I — I’m sorry…”

The next moment, he turned in a panic and retreated further back — then spun around, summoned his qinggong, and fled toward the direction of Xifeng City without daring to look back, vanishing within a few bounds as a streak of white.

Guan Wujue sat blankly on the stone table.

The Sect Leader had kissed him and then fled.

The Sect Leader had kissed him and then fled — again!?

How could the Sect Leader be like this — how could he be like this again!

Nine years. Nine whole years had passed. Apart from his qinggong becoming so much better that he was harder to catch, how had the man not improved even a little? That sort of disposition — kissing someone and then running off first — who besides himself could possibly put up with him?!

The red-robed Protector was instantly seized by a surge of exasperation. Had he not known this place was only ten li from Xifeng City, and that the Sect Leader had walked this road many times while coming to collect him — surely he would have had to chase after the Sect Leader for another hour or two!

But once his exasperation had run its course, his expression softened.

Guan Wujue picked up the peach petal that had fallen onto the stone table beside him, slowly raised it before his eyes and stared at it for a long moment, then brought it to his lips and kissed it gently.

Guan Wujue thought quietly to himself:

The Sect Leader kissed him — did that mean the Sect Leader was willing to like him?

The Sect Leader kissed him again — did that mean the Sect Leader was willing to like him again?

The thought, all at once, made his heart itch with a soft, melting warmth.

The thing he had secretly guessed at and suspected all this time, the thing he had been anxious and unsettled about — the thing he hadn’t even had the courage to confirm — had been peeled open by the Sect Leader just now, with such startling abruptness.

Guan Wujue lowered his gaze and smiled. First a quiet smile, then a soft laugh that slipped past his lips — and the curve that rose at the corner of his mouth was so pure and unblemished.

——It was as though time had flowed backward through him, washing away all the weathered old wounds. The one sitting on the stone table, smiling as he kissed a peach blossom, seemed for an instant still to be that reckless, carefree boy from years ago, the one who had been called Ah Ku.