WJ Chapter 133

Go Out the East Gate (6)

—So you wouldn’t actually… have genuine feelings for me, would you.

Guan Wujue’s voice had been made low and husky by fine wine, and because it carried a smile, it sounded tingling and soft. Qingjue Residence was already quiet to begin with, and these words reached the Sect Leader’s ears without any concealment whatsoever.

The two were pressed too close together—Yun Changliu could even see a reflection of himself in Guan Wujue’s eyes. His heartbeat suddenly stumbled into disorder, and he turned his gaze away in near-panic, only to be unable to stop himself from drifting it back.

A peculiar and ill-timed thought suddenly surfaced. Yun Changliu quietly reflected that the Four Directions Protector was clearly far more handsome than those four women—he’d grown so accustomed to being with Wujue that he couldn’t possibly find ordinary women appealing anymore…

And after Guan Wujue said those words, he fell into a blank daze. After a long moment, he suddenly gathered the quilt around himself, closed his eyes, and without ceremony pressed himself into Yun Changliu’s arms.

Yun Changliu was startled by the sudden weight against him and hurriedly reached out to hold the person steady. Perhaps because of the wine, his skin was running slightly warm.

Guan Wujue shifted restlessly, and Yun Changliu gave a little shudder—the tips of his ears flushed faintly red—and he furrowed his brow and managed, “You… don’t cause trouble.”

The drunk man let out a low hum, and indeed stopped moving, seemingly falling asleep just like that, nestled in the Sect Leader’s arms.

Yun Changliu, however, went rigid where he stood. The Sect Leader held his Four Directions Protector in a loose, tentative embrace, standing at the edge of the bed, not daring to move an inch.

He lowered his head slightly and saw Guan Wujue’s profile—deep-set features, sharply defined. With his eyes closed, long lashes lay softly downward, half-visible in the darkness; those thin lips were gently pressed together, still seemingly touched with the glimmer of wine—devastatingly intoxicating.

Yun Changliu suddenly felt an itch in his heart—a sudden, fierce desire to hold him tightly. But after a long silence, he only drew a quiet, deep breath and silently suppressed the unspeakable restlessness stirring at the bottom of his heart.

He laid Guan Wujue down on the bed, removed his shoes and socks, and tucked the cotton quilt over him. Then he felt his way in the dark to the wardrobe, took out a clean inner garment, returned to the bedside, lightened his movements, and slowly began to remove Guan Wujue’s upper robe.

The soft sound of fabric sliding against skin, and the breathing of two people, intertwined in the darkness of the night. The one who slept breathed steadily and deeply; the one who remained awake breathed in rhythms that grew increasingly unsteady.

Yun Changliu’s gaze grew darker and darker. It was nothing more than helping the Protector change into a fresh inner garment—both of them were men, it was clearly an entirely ordinary matter—yet he could hear his own heartbeat pounding fast and heavy, and felt his cheeks burning, his entire body running hot.

By the time Yun Changliu had finished the torturous task of changing the man’s garment, he no longer dared steal even one more glance, hastily straightened the pillow and quilt, and turned to leave.

But the moment he reached the bedroom door, he was overcome by an irresistible impulse and turned back, staring at the figure on the bed with a heart full of tangled conflict.

…Yun Changliu had actually known for a long time that Wujue was fond of being close to him.

During the year the Protector had been recuperating, he was often so ill that he fell into a confused stupor. Back then, he had refused to seek treatment, and when his mind was unclear and he became agitated, no one could do anything—only when the Sect Leader came to hold him would he curl up quietly and sleep.

Guan Muyan had worried this would irritate the Sect Leader, but how could it have? Looking at that pallid figure breathing faintly as he slept in his arms, Yun Changliu felt nothing but tenderness and aching affection.

But afterward, once Wujue recovered, it was no longer like that. Yun Changliu knew he was a man capable of restraint—peel back that outermost layer that blazed as conspicuously as fire, and the bones beneath were all composed of calm and hidden endurance.

These days, Wujue had gradually grown bolder about drawing close to him, yet he always held to a certain boundary—only close, never intimate. Whenever there was any skin-to-skin contact between them, it was invariably the Sect Leader who initiated it first.

Only now, the Protector had gotten drunk in a way rarely seen, and that little bit of caution had likely been softened and blurred by the strong wine. Look at just now—he’d actually dared lean himself into his arms, a tenderness that hadn’t been seen in a very long time.

And so Yun Changliu privately thought: if right now he were to lie down on the same bed with him, there was a nine-in-ten chance that Wujue, in the dead of night, would drift in his sleep and without realizing it burrow back into his arms.

—No wait, hold on—why would he want the Protector to burrow into his arms!?

And yet… and yet that person, ordinarily so ruthless and coldly severe, fumbling about with his eyes shut and pressing himself into his arms when muddled—he was truly, unbearably endearing…

Yun Changliu’s heart was caught between ice and fire, his thoughts drifting away and then snapping back, until he felt he might go mad. But his body, beyond his control, walked back to the bedside, and with an unreadable expression began to undress.

This time it was his own clothes he was removing, which naturally took no time at all. Shrugging off the wide outer robe and clothing, the Sect Leader quietly lifted the cotton quilt and slipped inside.

Guan Wujue lay facing away from him. Yun Changliu thought it over carefully and reasoned to himself: in any case, Wujue would eventually drift over on his own—so if he himself reached out a little sooner, surely there was no harm in that.

The Sect Leader therefore carefully extended his arm, passing it beneath the Protector’s nape, then curled it around that lean waist, and drew him into his own embrace.

“Mm…” Guan Wujue, disturbed by this, made a small sound in his throat and furrowed his brow slightly.

He did not wake—instead, he pressed himself more tightly into Yun Changliu’s arms, searching for a comfortable position and continuing to sleep.

Yun Changliu’s heart trembled.

He lay with his eyes closed, feeling the few strands of hair at the pillow’s edge brushing against the skin of his chest, and suddenly a sense of fullness and satisfaction welled up to an extreme degree—as though the part of him that had always been empty was being gently, warmly filled.

So full, even, that it nearly… overflowed.

In that moment, Yun Changliu thought: it’s over.

He had… harbored wicked thoughts toward his Protector.

…..

—That night, Jin Lin and Yin Lang remembered it clearly. The Sect Leader had gone to Qingjue Residence to call someone to account—and then he never returned.

—That night, the Zhuhuo Guards posted outside Qingjue Residence also remembered it clearly. The Sect Leader had entered Protector Guan’s room—and then he never came out.

…..

The next morning, the tireless and uncomplaining personal attendant Wen came, as was his custom, to Qingjue Residence to escort the Sect Leader back to Yangxin Hall.

The Zhuhuo Guard reported inside, and when he came back out his expression was somewhat peculiar. He said, “Attendant Wen, the Sect Leader bids you enter.”

Wen Feng felt that something was a little odd, but he didn’t ask, and simply went straight in. The attendant was no stranger to Qingjue Residence and needed no guide, so he made his own way inside.

When he reached the door to the master bedroom and was just about to knock, he faintly heard Yun Changliu’s cool, unhurried voice drifting out from within:

“Last night you made such a fuss insisting on ‘more’—now you can’t get out of bed and you finally know what suffering feels like?”

Then came Guan Wujue’s voice—laced with a faint, muddled groan, heavy with exhaustion and weakness/ “Mm… This subordinate… behaved disgracefully under the influence of wine last night. Sect Leader, please forgive the offense…”

Wen Feng: !!!???

Yun Changliu sighed with helpless resignation. “…Does it truly hurt badly?”

“Mm…”

“Don’t move. Let me rub it for you.”

“Sect Leader, you mustn’t! Wujue is mortified… This subordinate is capable of sitting up—hey, please—please don’t press me down and refuse to let go.”

Yun Changliu seemed to laugh, very softly, very lightly, then said in an even tone. “The Protector was remarkably bold last night—how is it that after spending the night with this lord, he’s suddenly mortified?”

On the other side of the door, Wen Feng stood frozen like a wooden figure. The attendant’s fine-featured face had gone completely scarlet. The hand raised to knock lifted and fell, lifted and fell, and could not come down; the mouth opened to announce himself, opened and closed, opened and closed, and could produce no sound.

His mouth went dry, gold stars burst before his eyes, and in his heart he screamed:

Heavens! Dear heavens!

Father! Old Sect Leader! Lady Lan in heaven above who must surely be watching over us!!

The Sect Lead—Sect Leader, he—he he he—he actually really truly slept with the Protector—slept with Ah Ku!?

In that single instant, a thousand ten thousand scandalous and unspeakable vivid images flashed through Wen Feng’s mind—this indulgence and that entanglement, clouds of morning and rain of dusk. Finally, the attendant covered his face, half-crying and half-laughing, and turned on his heel to flee.

But before he could take a single step, Yun Changliu’s voice inside the room suddenly rose sharply. “Wen Feng! Why have you not come in?”

Wen Feng had no choice but to shuffle sheepishly back. He said to himself: was I not giving the two of you a little extra time for tender moments?

But the moment he pushed the door open, he was bewildered.

The room was bright and clean; though a lingering scent of wine remained, there was none of the ambiguous, decadent atmosphere he had imagined. The bedding too was tidy and orderly. Yun Changliu sat at the head of the bed with his hair down, firmly pressing the Protector to lie across his lap, his fingertips slowly massaging Guan Wujue’s temples. Hearing the sound of Wen Feng pushing the door open, he didn’t even raise his head:

“He got very drunk last night. Go have someone brew some hangover soup.”

But the Sect Leader waited a long while and heard no acknowledgment from Wen Feng, and looked up with a puzzled expression. “…Wen Feng?”

What was wrong?

Why was his face wearing an expression like that of a man whose world had gone to ash—hollow and crestfallen?

Why had it then shifted into an expression of such aggrieved fury that he looked as if he wished he could slap himself across the face?

Guan Wujue had been suffering through his headache, but upon seeing Wen Feng’s state he immediately understood something, and couldn’t help grabbing Yun Changliu’s sleeve as he burst into unrestrained laughter, leaving the Sect Leader thoroughly bewildered.

Soon enough, after Wen Feng had gone out—on the verge of tears—to have someone brew the hangover soup, the room fell quiet again with just the two of them.

Guan Wujue had only just finished his bout of laughter, lying sprawled across Yun Changliu’s lap with half-lidded eyes, when the Sect Leader reached out and stroked his hair without warning. Yun Changliu asked him lightly, “Where did those four women come from?”

Guan Wujue answered honestly, “They were a gift from a certain branch hall leader.”

This too was quite a common occurrence. The branch halls in various cities were far from the main sect on Mount Shenlie, and ordinarily there was rarely an opportunity to offer bribes. For precisely this reason, every time someone came to Xifeng City, a great many people would rack their brains trying to curry favor with the important figures of the main sect.

The new Sect Leader, Yun Changliu, was a dragon who showed his head but hid his tail, and rumor held that his nature was cold and indifferent to desire. The Four Directions Protector, Guan Wujue, on the other hand, was at the height of his influence these days—wielding great power, and constantly running about on the Sect Leader’s behalf, with many branch hall affairs passing through his hands. Naturally, there were those who would find every means possible to get close to him.

They say even heroes cannot pass the barrier of beauties—and further considering that this Protector Guan was a young man in his early twenties, full of vigor and ardor, one branch hall leader took it into his head to try this particular angle.

Exactly what had gone through his mind was unclear. Perhaps it was that the seating arrangement at yesterday’s banquet had left a slight awkwardness and some unease in Guan Wujue’s heart; or perhaps it was that Sect Leader Yun’s years of utterly austere and desire-free living had genuinely begun to worry the Protector on his behalf… But however it happened, Guan Wujue had actually accepted them.

Not only accepted them—he had also carefully inspected those four beautiful young women from head to toe, confirmed that they were truly clean, harmless, and without any martial training, and then turned around and sent them straight to Yangxin Hall.

Yun Changliu studied Guan Wujue for a long while with a deep and heavy gaze, then parted his lips to ask again, “Since they were lovely and beautiful, why did the Protector not keep them for his own enjoyment?”

Guan Wujue: “…What?”

Such words were truly unlike what his desire-free Sect Leader would ever say. The Protector felt a chill run down his spine, but raised his head to find Yun Changliu looking at him with perfect seriousness, asking with great care and gravity. “Could it be you don’t like women?”

Guan Wujue was so startled he shot bolt upright from Yun Changliu’s lap. “Sect Leader!?”

Yun Changliu firmly pushed Guan Wujue back down.

Then continued with composed calm. “Then do you like men?”

“…”

The Protector’s expression was as if he had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

“Why don’t you answer? Do you like them or not?”

Guan Wujue made a great effort to quiet his mind, then pressed his fingers painfully hard against his temples and said with anguish, “Sect Leader… did this subordinate last night… say some nonsense to you last night…”

Yun Changliu thought it over. “You said you liked this lord.”

Guan Wujue gave a wry smile. “Don’t tease this subordinate—that is impossible.”

“Indeed it is not.” Yun Changliu lowered his eyes with a trace of regret, and continued channeling his internal energy to slowly massage the Protector’s acupoints. “Nothing to do today—continue sleeping.”

Yun Changliu’s tone was calm, but his heart was in some disarray. Those wicked thoughts surged up again; he tried in his vexation to uproot them as roughly as pulling out weeds, but the roots were still sunk deep in the bottom of his heart—not only impossible to remove, but stirring with a restless, tenacious vitality.

…He knew there was, in truth, one more question still—only he hadn’t dared to voice it. Yun Changliu was even grateful that Guan Wujue didn’t remember those words from last night; if he had, he likely would not have been willing to lie so relaxed and at ease across his body.

—Then do you like this lord?

He didn’t dare ask. How could he dare to ask.