Chapter 70#

Night Wind: Xiao Pei Goes to Shang Enzhou (10)#

A perfect example of “speaking brings trouble” — nothing more.

If time could rewind to that moment, or if regret pills were for sale, Pei Xiting would certainly never have spoken out in provocation, offending the young master surnamed Zong to the point of no return. He could sing, but singing naked was beyond his tolerance—after all, it wasn’t in bed, and this kind of trick was simply too humiliating.

“I don’t think this is good,” Pei Xiting said, blinking with utter sincerity. “Of course, it’s not that I’m unwilling—I’m entirely thinking of Your Highness’s sake.”

“Oh?” Zong Suiyang wore an expression that said, “I’m listening to you make this up.” “What do you mean by that?”

Pei Xiting asked, “Your Highness, what kind of place is Green Wave Lake?”

This Your Highness replied, “A lake.”

Pei Xiting couldn’t argue with that answer, so he smiled and said, “It’s not just a lake; it’s a public lake. In short, this is a public place.”

Zong Suiyang knew where this was going but played along, “Therefore?”

“Therefore, we’re not the only ones here. Anything we do could be discovered by others and might also disturb them.” Pei Xiting sighed, his tone utterly sincere, “Although having fun on a flower boat isn’t shocking, let alone other tricks, Your Highness isn’t that kind of person. In my heart, Your Highness is a very dignified, self-disciplined person who never forgets his bearing. I simply can’t bear to see Your Highness lose face or have your reputation ruined.”

Zong Suiyang admired Pei Xiting’s expression of false sincerity, so fake it showed no trace of acting, and said, “Secretary Pei’s words are heartfelt, and I am deeply comforted. But in truth, Secretary Pei worries too much.”

Pei Xiting said, “Ah, Your Highness, please—”

“First,” Zong Suiyang raised his hand slightly, cutting off Pei Xiting’s nonsense, “no matter what we do here, outsiders won’t discover it. Second, thank you for praising my character, but I think my character has nothing to do with what I ask you to do. After all, I’m just following your example—respecting and encouraging your thoughts and actions, am I not?”

Pei Xiting gave a bitter laugh. “Heh.”

“Third, I don’t really care about so-called face or reputation. Some of the infamy I’ve already gained is far more shocking.” Zong Suiyang spoke unhurriedly, refuting Pei Xiting’s “good intentions” one by one.

His gaze wandered over Pei Xiting’s brows and eyes, paused, and then he added, “Besides, appreciating beauty is human nature. Secretary Pei has good looks, a good figure, and a good voice. I want to appreciate them all together—like viewing mountains and seas—what’s wrong with that?”

Pei Xiting found himself momentarily unable to come up with a counterpoint. He stared at Zong Suiyang for a while, then suddenly froze. Those dark, deep eyes were as usual, and the words were ordinary, yet he felt something was off.

Had Zong Suiyang changed, or was he overthinking?

If Zong Suiyang had said such things before, Pei Xiting wouldn’t have found them ambiguous. After all, the man’s words and actions were not only like a gentleman but also someone with a body of iron and bones, untouched by worldly charms, embedded with a stone heart. In short, in every way—Fahai, you don’t understand love.

But their relationship had already been pierced through twice, and they had kissed. Zong Suiyang wouldn’t be unaware of the importance of “boundaries,” nor would he be unaware that his words would lead to suggestive thoughts.

Pei Xiting bit his lip and deliberately said, “Is Your Highness humiliating me?”

Zong Suiyang was startled. “Why would you think that?”

“Since we met, Your Highness and I have seen each other quite frequently, even spending long periods traveling together. Yet I’ve never seen Your Highness appreciate beauty in this way. If I must compare, that Chunsheng from Little Spring Garden in Ningzhou also had good looks, a good figure, and a good voice. Your Highness appreciating me is no different from appreciating him—is there any distinction?”

Pei Xiting lowered his eyes, refusing to look at Zong Suiyang, the rims of his eyes turning slightly red.

Zong Suiyang had no such intention. His brows furrowed slightly, and his voice softened. “I was just listening to the music. You were there that night. Whether I appreciated him or not, don’t you have your own judgment?”

“Your Highness’s thoughts are as deep as an abyss,” Pei Xiting said. “I fear I only see the surface.”

This was a request to hear his true feelings. Zong Suiyang suspected the little fox was doing this on purpose, but seeing his reddened eyes, he became uncertain.

After a moment of silence, Zong Suiyang still said, “I didn’t appreciate Chunsheng. I didn’t even look at him much.”

Having said this, Zong Suiyang felt somewhat wronged. That night on the boat, from the moment Pei Xiting came up, he kept staring at him with those eyes. How could he have had the mind to look at anyone else? Since Pei Xiting had been watching him the whole time, he must have known where Zong Suiyang’s gaze fell. He didn’t know how such a misunderstanding could arise.

Pei Xiting pursed his lips but still looked away. “Is that so?”

Zong Suiyang added, “I’m not comparing you to Chunsheng or belittling you. Don’t overthink it. Don’t take it to heart.”

Pei Xiting said nothing, just sniffled.

Why was the explanation making it worse? Zong Suiyang was bewildered and found it troublesome. He thought for a moment and then continued, “I said that only to praise you honestly, not to make you a source of entertainment for me. Besides, I was just joking with you, scaring you. I wouldn’t actually make you take off your clothes.”

This wasn’t an empty lie to soothe Pei Xiting. Zong Suiyang truly had never intended such a punishment. The time, place, and their relationship were all unsuitable—it would be degrading. But he thought this little cheat would surely talk his way out of it with his silver tongue. He planned to tease him a bit, dampen his arrogance, then pretend to be persuaded and let it go. He hadn’t expected to say the wrong thing.

Yet Zong Suiyang was also being truthful. In his eyes, Pei Xiting was like green mountains and blue seas—inviting, captivating, making one reluctant to leave. He had appreciated countless beautiful scenes, but he had only ever appreciated this one Pei Xiting, and he was increasingly sinking into it, unable to extricate himself.

This was also the first time he had to coax someone.

Lacking experience, Zong Suiyang was once again flustered by Pei Xiting.

Pei Xiting was indeed a hundred times fiercer than the imperial censors, Zong Suiyang mused privately. In the past, when dozens of censors debated with him, he couldn’t even be bothered to lift an eye. Now, even explaining felt difficult.

This person was his nemesis.

Regardless of the noise outside, the boat cabin fell silent. Zong Suiyang stared at Pei Xiting, racking his brain for how to coax him. Without realizing it, he reached out his curled hand, gently touching the small mole under Pei Xiting’s lower eyelid.

There was no wetness there, but Zong Suiyang still felt burned, his fingertips trembling.

Pei Xiting’s lashes fluttered in response, and he finally turned his eyes to Zong Suiyang. By retreating to advance, using softness to overcome hardness, he had finally squeezed a bit of true feeling from the crown prince.

Pei Xiting felt inwardly gratified and pleased, but on the surface, he hesitated, saying, “Is Your Highness coaxing me?”

“I am coaxing you, but it’s not a lie.” Seeing that Pei Xiting was finally willing to look at him, Zong Suiyang breathed a slight sigh of relief and seized the opportunity. “This round doesn’t count. We can bet again.”

Fake crying works this well!

Pei Xiting was secretly shocked, wondering if the crown prince also fell for that “white lotus, green tea” act. But he had his own calculations, so he said, “How can that be? The game wouldn’t be fair.”

The matter had just settled, and Zong Suiyang felt it wasn’t appropriate to take a jab at this little cheat, so he said, “It’s fine. Just gambling for fun.”

“Let’s stick to the rules. I’ll punish myself with three cups.” As he spoke, Pei Xiting reached out and gently pushed Zong Suiyang’s thigh, muttering, “Your Highness, let me up.”

Zong Suiyang belatedly realized, moved his leg away from pinning Pei Xiting down, and reached out to help him up.

They each took their seats. Pei Xiting poured wine, punished himself with three cups, and said, “Continue.”

Zong Suiyang had good cards. Each drew three.

Pei Xiting had already bounced back, his face showing no trace of grievance or sadness. He said confidently, “If you draw the Purple Star card again this round, you definitely cheated.”

Zong Suiyang said, “Can’t it just be good luck?”

A man who had been separated from his birth mother while still in swaddling, who had been plunged into the shadows of swords and endless slaughter in his youth, who had lost his elder brother and become estranged from his sovereign father, his flesh and soul bound—hardly deserved the title of “good luck.” To Zong Suiyang, the Eastern Palace was merely a gilded cage where even his own name was almost forgotten.

Certainly, there were many whose fates were more twisted and pitiable than Zong Suiyang’s, but pain is not comparable. Living in this world is one’s own path to cultivate. Pei Xiting might feel pity for the pitiable, but not much heartache. His heart was biased.

“Fine.” Pei Xiting looked up and smiled. “Let’s just say it’s your good luck.”

Those eyes were so soft. Zong Suiyang was momentarily stunned, but Pei Xiting had already lowered his gaze to look at his cards, the tenderness in his eyes instantly replaced by cunning, as if it had been an illusion.

“Now, you’re definitely done for.” Pei Xiting slowly straightened his proud posture, sneering, “I knew it. I couldn’t be the loser all night.”

Zong Suiyang raised an eyebrow. “Then I’ll wait and see.”

Pei Xiting was incredibly cocky. “Should we flip all three cards at once?”

Zong Suiyang had no objection. They flipped together. He had a six, a six, and a seven, while Pei Xiting had a two, an eight, and the Purple Star card.

“Ha! Ha!” Pei Xiting laughed crisply, slapped the table, and said, “Come on! Accept your punishment!”

Seeing Pei Xiting laugh, Zong Suiyang couldn’t help but curl his lips slightly, then said, “I choose dares.”

For someone whose mouth was harder than his dick, choosing truth was walking into a trap. Pei Xiting had expected this and hummed in response. No matter—the Purple Star card doubled the punishment!

He rubbed his chin, thinking, then said, “The flowers are in bloom and the moon is full. I want to hear a song.”

Zong Suiyang narrowed his eyes slightly.

Pei Xiting showed no fear. “Ah, well, if the crown prince wants to welch, there’s nothing I can do about it, is there?”

As he spoke, he shook his head, looking like “You’re the boss, do whatever you want,” both annoying and adorable.

Zong Suiyang’s teeth itched to bite Pei Xiting’s face, but he didn’t show it. “What do you want to hear?”

“Huh?” Pei Xiting said in disbelief. “You actually want to sing for me?”

He opened his eyes wide in excitement, and those eyes, already as bright as glass beads, sparkled as if dotted with stars and moons—everything beautiful and luminous. Zong Suiyang, who had been reluctant, sighed inwardly and said, “First, tell me.”

“Then I want to hear…” Pei Xiting dragged out the syllables, a dense song list flashing through his mind. He couldn’t decide, then had a sudden inspiration. “I want to hear ‘Song of the Yue People.’ That one has few lyrics, right?”

Before Zong Suiyang could answer, Pei Xiting preemptively “hijacked” him, saying, “Aren’t I good to you?”

The implication was roughly: Don’t be ungrateful and try to renege.

Zong Suiyang understood perfectly. He shook his head slightly, reached out and turned a wine cup upside down, took a chopstick from the basket, and tapped it lightly against the cup’s bottom.

A crisp sound. Pei Xiting sat upright, staring intently. The man across from him lowered his eyes slightly, parted his thin lips, and sang, “What a wonderful night to be adrift in midstream. What a wonderful day to share a boat with a prince…”

His voice was undoubtedly pleasant—cold as gold and jade, hoarse and stirring. Pei Xiting watched, mesmerized. As he listened, his ears burned, his hands and feet went numb and itchy, and he longed to rush over and pin the man down for a long kiss.

The small boat bumped into something and suddenly rocked. Pei Xiting snapped back to reality, steadying himself on the table. Just then, Zong Suiyang lifted his eyes to him and sang softly, “On the mountain are trees, on the trees are branches. My heart delights in you, but you know it not.”

Among lords, my heart is dazed and dizzy. Pei Xiting clapped lightly. “Beautiful, beautiful… beautiful.”

Zong Suiyang put down the chopstick and cleared his throat, saying nonchalantly, “So, have I passed?”

“Definitely passed.” Pei Xiting poured himself a cup of wine, tilted his head back, and drank it down. Not enough—he downed another, barely suppressing the blazing fire in his heart. “Again.”

In his daze, he forgot the rule about doubled punishment for the Purple Star card, and Zong Suiyang didn’t remind him, silently taking advantage.

This round, Pei Xiting lost again. He chose a dare, but when Zong Suiyang proposed the punishment “bark like Little King,” Pei Xiting was utterly troubled and voluntarily punished himself with three cups.

Zong Suiyang didn’t object or stop him. He studied Pei Xiting’s face and caught the hint.

Pei Xiting seemed a bit guilty, his eyes darting. Zong Suiyang noticed but didn’t expose him. He only said, “If this keeps up, you’ll get dizzy. Don’t fall overboard.”

“Aren’t you here? What have I got to fear?” Pei Xiting finished the third cup, wiped his mouth, grabbed a piece of chestnut cake, and ate it with bulging cheeks. “Delicious. Better than the one outside the guild hall. That one’s too powdery, sticks in the throat.”

After finishing one piece, Pei Xiting drank another cup of wine, treating it like water. But wine was different from water, and he was clearly getting tipsy, starting to chat.

“Do you think I should plant a tree in the courtyard? The ground by the rose wall is bare.” Pei Xiting poured another cup as he spoke, clinking it with Zong Suiyang’s tea cup before sipping it down.

“You could. A swing wouldn’t be bad either.” Zong Suiyang glanced at the wine jar, estimating Pei Xiting’s tolerance. “Drink less.”

“Ah, that’s a good idea. A swing, yes. I’ll have one made.” Pei Xiting kept pouring, planning aloud, “I’m also thinking of getting a flowerpot stand, three tiers high, to put the pots on, against the wall.”

“What material?” Zong Suiyang asked.

“It’s outdoors, so it needs to be pretty waterproof wood, sturdy and nice-looking. Not something that’ll fall over at a bump.” Pei Xiting said.

“Rosewood, camphor wood—plenty of options.” Zong Suiyang noted this matter. “You could remove the stone table in the yard. Someone like you, after drinking, not steady—if you bump into it, it’ll be serious.”

Pei Xiting took a sip of wine, unconcerned by Zong Suiyang’s dig. He shook his head, propped his chin on his hand, and said, “Alright, change it. Get a matching set, better looking. And make two awnings, so rain or snow won’t be a problem.”

Zong Suiyang saw that Pei Xiting’s face was as red as a dough ball and said, “Should we go back?”

Pei Xiting turned and crawled to the front of the cabin to look. There were barely any people left on the lake. He crawled back and said, “The wine’s not finished.”

Zong Suiyang reached out and shook the jar. “Just a little left. Don’t drink anymore.”

“No, don’t waste it.” Pei Xiting reached for the jar, but it “whooshed” out of reach.

Zong Suiyang placed the jar beside himself, looking at Pei Xiting’s scrunched-up face. “Are you still angry?”

Pei Xiting blankly went, “Huh?”

Zong Suiyang had initially thought Pei Xiting was deliberately trying to get drunk and act out. But seeing him so obvious, he hesitated. He looked into Pei Xiting’s eyes, not letting any emotion slip, and said, “Are you still bothered by how I teased you earlier? Still overthinking?”

Was that why he was drowning his sorrows?

Definitely not. I was just acting to fool you, Pei Xiting answered silently. Watching Zong Suiyang’s serious expression, he couldn’t help but smile. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re not drinking—you’re guzzling.” Zong Suiyang teased. “Are you trying to get drunk so you can throw a fit, hit me, and vent your revenge?”

The crown prince was truly sharp. He’d guessed most of it. Pei Xiting naturally wouldn’t admit it. “At most, I’d curse you. I wouldn’t hit you. Even if I acted drunk, I couldn’t beat you. I just think this wine tastes good. There’s only a little left. Just let me drink it, okay?”

As he spoke, Pei Xiting edged toward the jar. Once close, he grabbed it, weighed it, and poured himself a cup.

“A drink when it’s cold warms you up, especially come winter. Hey,” Pei Xiting said, “speaking of winter, when we return to Yejing, will it snow?”

“I don’t know,” Zong Suiyang said. “Based on past years, it usually starts snowing before the New Year.”

Pei Xiting had never seen snow in Yejing. He tilted his head to look at Zong Suiyang. “Seeking plum blossoms in the snow—most elegant. Have you ever gone with anyone before?”

Zong Suiyang lowered his head to look back at him. “Pursuing an enemy in the snow, killing someone in a plum grove—does that count?”

“…I guess so.” Pei Xiting laughed. “Then this year, invite me. I’ll paint your portrait.”

His gaze was laced with drunkenness, his pupils bright with light, his tone smiling and a little seductive. Zong Suiyang’s eyes wavered. “Aren’t you afraid your hands will get cold?”

“I’ll wear hand warmers. The kind with exposed fingers—won’t get in the way.” Pei Xiting propped his elbows on the table, rose slightly, and leaned into Zong Suiyang’s face, smiling. “I’ll drink while I paint, so I won’t be cold.”

Zong Suiyang didn’t push him away or avoid him. “The Eastern Palace has hills and pavilions. No need to go outside. You can look out from the warm chamber’s window and take in the full snow scene.”

Pei Xiting pouted, emphasizing, “But I want to paint you.”

“Then should I walk around on the ground? It depends on whether you can see me clearly.” Zong Suiyang said.

Pei Xiting thought about that image and laughed. “That works too. Is this an invitation to the Eastern Palace?”

Zong Suiyang looked at Pei Xiting, his tone very light, almost tempting. “The Eastern Palace has floor heating, the best charcoal. It’s warm in winter. Your little yard doesn’t—you wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

“Then where will I stay when I come?” Pei Xiting said wistfully. “I don’t want to live in a hall by myself. Can I bring Yuanfang?”

Zong Suiyang stared at him expressionlessly for a moment, then said, “It’s uncertain whether he’ll still be in Yejing by then.”

“Oh, right. Hey, we agreed—you’re not to help Director Fu take Yuanfang away.” Pei Xiting said.

Zong Suiyang didn’t respond.

Pei Xiting’s dog-like audacity, emboldened by drink, became a millennium-old dog’s audacity. He reached out, grabbed Zong Suiyang’s chin, shook it left and right, and urged, “Did you hear me?”

The gesture was either flirtatious or threatening. Zong Suiyang, treated this way for the first time, was briefly startled but didn’t push the paw away. He only said, “Why?”

These two words, falling on Pei Xiting’s ears, automatically became “On what grounds?”

Zong Suiyang and Fu Wei had known each other for years—one in court, one in the wild, as if from two different worlds, yet that didn’t stop them from being friends. Pei Xiting—who was he to interfere?

Thinking like this, Pei Xiting felt uncomfortable all over, as if pricked by needles soaked in vinegar, sour from heart, liver, spleen, and lungs down to the soles of his feet, surging to his eyeballs—not just sour, but prickly and painful.

“On what grounds!” He glared at Zong Suiyang, leaning against the man’s arm, clutching his face, unrighteously righteous. “You helped me from the start, so you have to keep helping me. If you stop halfway, you’re fickle and heartless!”

Zong Suiyang, his head forced to sway, wasn’t angry. Instead, he felt inexplicably pleased. He reached out, took Pei Xiting’s hand, let him loosen his grip a little, and looked down at Pei Xiting. “Is it that serious?”

“Yes, it’s that serious!” Pei Xiting extended his other hand, holding Zong Suiyang’s face with both hands, and said solemnly, “Yes, I came late. So what? I may not be able to fight by your side like Director Fu and the others, but I can do other things for you. I’m not worthless. And I’m also aggrieved. If I’d come a few years earlier, before my bones had fully formed, I’d have learned martial arts. Maybe I’d be the number one master in the world by now!”

Zong Suiyang thought that “maybe” was very uncertain indeed, but he suddenly understood the flavor of the vinegar Pei Xiting was drinking—not because he was friends with Fu Wei, but because Pei Xiting felt he had come too late and missed too much.

“Our fate began at that time. That’s something I can’t change. You’re stronger and more powerful than me, but you can’t change it either.” Pei Xiting said aggrievedly. “That’s not my fault, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” Zong Suiyang gently patted the hands covering his face, soothing him. “Meetings between people are inherently early or late. The fate between people is inherently deep or shallow.”

He looked into Pei Xiting’s slightly red eyes, eyes like water, as if his own mind was drowning. “You and Fu Wei… and others, are fundamentally different.”

His lashes trembled, as if speaking these words cost great effort. Pei Xiting’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came.

Two gazes touched and mingled within inches. Something silently permeated the air. Pei Xiting’s head felt light, and suddenly he pressed down on Zong Suiyang’s head, tilting his own up to kiss him.

Soft lips touched his. Zong Suiyang stiffened all over but didn’t push Pei Xiting away. He hadn’t touched any wine, yet he felt drunk.

Pei Xiting, like a little cat, gently brushed against Zong Suiyang’s lips, licking and nibbling. Not only that, the cat tried to climb into his arms, fumbling and squirming in a daze. Zong Suiyang sighed softly, and was suddenly bit by Pei Xiting—not hard, not light, making half his body go numb.

Pei Xiting wasn’t satisfied with just a taste. He extended his tongue, tracing the man’s thin, beautiful lips, licking the soft tip of his tongue, enticing it into entanglement.

Zong Suiyang’s breathing grew heavy. He cupped Pei Xiting’s face as if holding a honey ball. Pei Xiting, encouraged, deepened the kiss. He reached up to cling to Zong Suiyang’s shoulders, half-rising. Zong Suiyang tilted his head back to meet him, and Pei Xiting swung a leg over to straddle the man, wrapping both arms around him, kissing him deeply and reluctantly.

Zong Suiyang wrapped an arm around Pei Xiting’s waist, pressing him firmly against himself. When he opened his eyes slightly, he saw Pei Xiting’s closed eyes, wet lashes, a face lost in passion.

The cold wind rushed into the cabin, but they felt nothing of it. Their body heat warmed each other, only feeling warm and rising moisture.

After who knew how long, Pei Xiting finally pulled back. Their wet, red lips lingered, touching each other reluctantly. He rubbed against Zong Suiyang’s face and collapsed into the hollow of his neck, breathing softly.

Zong Suiyang’s whole body was taut. He turned his head, inhaling the fragrance from Pei Xiting’s hair. The inhalation turned into poison—a numb ache prickling through the cracks in his bones.

Zong Suiyang struggled painfully. He opened his eyes, staring at Pei Xiting’s red ears, opened his mouth, and was about to bite down hard when he suddenly turned away, afraid of losing control and drawing blood from Pei Xiting.

He reached out and stroked Pei Xiting’s back, saying nothing, struggling to control himself.

Their breaths intertwined—one indulging, one restraining—neither could hide, neither could deceive, laid bare and clear.

Pei Xiting refused to let go of the man, hugging him tightly. When he tilted his head slightly, his eyes fixed on Zong Suiyang’s long, elegant neck. He couldn’t help but lean in and gently bite.

The body pressed against him grew even more tense, like a burning stone statue, fiercely digging into him. He smiled and said, “I like calling you Your Highness, but I don’t want to only call you Your Highness.”

Zong Suiyang had long since secretly told him the answer in his sleep, and tonight he would say it clearly for the second time. “The river flows vast, following the wind—Suiyang.”

“Suiyang, Zong Suiyang.” Pei Xiting twined Zong Suiyang’s hair around his finger and murmured, “I am Xiting, Wenjuan—belonging to water.”

So you will follow me.

Zong Suiyang understood Pei Xiting’s unspoken meaning.

Pei Xiting said nothing more. He tilted his head, letting it fall onto Zong Suiyang’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and drifted off, falling asleep somewhere along the way.

Zong Suiyang gently patted Pei Xiting’s back. Only when he was sure Pei Xiting was sound asleep did he stop. He pulled the man closer into his arms.