Chapter 45#
The moment the silence fell, the laughter also froze in embarrassment.#
Feng Bing stood up quietly. Pei Dan saw the torn, shredded hem of his garment and couldn’t help but reach up to touch the white cloth wrapped around his own head, struck speechless.
Though stained with blood, the fabric still carried a faint scent of herbal medicine—a fragrance he had lived and breathed alongside for three years, a smell that only someone closest to him, drenched in it daily, could recognize. Pei Dan’s face reddened. He imagined himself right now, wearing his ex-husband’s undergarment on his head—he probably looked like a fool.
Feng Bing picked up the waterskin and other items and walked a few steps toward the outside. Pei Dan stood up and followed. Feng Bing asked hesitantly, “Do you walk around often on your own?”
“…Mm.” Pei Dan didn’t just walk around often—he had even picked up the little wild rabbit. Feng Bing glanced at it. “Is this from the Imperial Hunting Grounds?”
Pei Dan said, “It’s too small.” Then added, “It’s injured too.”
Feng Bing turned his face away and focused on watching the path. After a short while, threading through a few thickets of shrubs, the steaming hot spring came into view.
The dark clouds in the night sky shifted aside just then, and the light of the waning moon spilled down, the water shimmering with rippling reflections. On the opposite bank, rising from the mist, stood a small waterside pavilion—simple, ancient, and clean. It was likely also built by imperial decree, though unmanned.
Since there were traces of human construction, then the wild spirits surely wouldn’t come here. Feng Bing felt pleased with himself for this wishful thought. He walked out onto the small pavilion, and when he turned back, he realized this spot was an absolutely superb vantage point. The breathtaking vista of the wild hot spring, wreathed in roiling steam and clouds of mist, vivid and resplendent, lay spread out before him. Evergreen pines and cypresses stood in every direction, and he could even see the slender, cold moon hanging at the tips of the trees.
His body and mind finally relaxed, and Feng Bing’s stomach was the first to betray him, growling loudly.
Pei Dan sat down on the ground beside the railing of the waterside pavilion. His head was still a bit dizzy; everything looked blurred and hazy, and Feng Bing’s silhouette seemed almost ethereal too. The little wild rabbit nudged up to him, so he raised his hand and let it lick his palm.
Feng Bing looked intently at the rabbit.
“…,” Pei Dan suddenly remembered, “I still have a flatbread on me.”
He took out the flatbread. The oil paper wrapping it was crumpled, but as he unfolded it layer by layer, a fragrant aroma drifted out. As he moved about, something small slipped from his chest.
It was a sachet.
The moonlight shone directly upon the embroidered orchid grass pattern on it. Feng Bing abruptly took two steps forward, but Pei Dan had already hidden it away in an instant. Before Feng Bing could even react—it all happened in the blink of an eye—Pei Dan handed him the flatbread.
Feng Bing took it, thought for a moment, and then grabbed his wrist.
Pei Dan froze.
Feng Bing pulled him—somewhat forcefully—to the edge of the hot spring and pressed his hands into the water to wash.
The hot spring water was warm and soothing, not like water at all, but more like a nest of blankets on a winter night. Only after his hands were clean did Feng Bing break apart the flatbread, giving Pei Dan the larger portion.
It was clearly Pei Dan’s flatbread, yet Feng Bing naturally assumed the role of host.
Pei Dan was actually hungry beyond measure, but once he truly started eating, his appetite surged. He finished in two or three bites, only to see Feng Bing still chewing slowly and deliberately. He didn’t want to steal Feng Bing’s small half, but he was still a bit unsatisfied. His gaze drifted in a circle and returned to the little wild rabbit. The rabbit was utterly oblivious to the danger approaching, its little mouth working steadily, contentedly chewing grass without a care.
Feng Bing spoke up again, “Do you want to keep it?”
Pei Dan was silent for a moment. “I don’t know if it’s easy to raise.”
Feng Bing said, “What name would you give it?”
Pei Dan was taken aback. Feng Bing’s eyes were bright and sparkling, as though he was nearly full and had already prepared a bellyful of energy to idle-chat with him.
Pei Dan answered honestly, “I just call it Little Beast.”
Feng Bing: …
A long pause. Feng Bing turned to the little wild rabbit and, with a tone that was vague but earnest, called out to it: “Little Beast.”
Pei Dan: …
Rabbit: …
Pei Dan had spent the entire day tumbling and roughhousing, and his body was extremely uncomfortable. But since his head was wrapped up entirely, he didn’t know whether he could bathe. While hesitating, he looked first at Feng Bing: “…Do you want to wash up?” He remembered that Feng Bing used to bathe every day in the past, but he didn’t know if he still had this habit now.
The question was too clumsy; Feng Bing nearly choked. After finishing the last crumbs of flatbread, Feng Bing looked toward the warm, alluring hot spring. “Are your hands and feet cold?”
In the deep mountains on a winter night, saying it wasn’t cold would certainly be a lie—especially after having sweated, the damp chill was even harder to bear. Pei Dan hunched his body slightly, thinking: if he answered that he was cold, what would happen? If he answered that he wasn’t cold, what would happen? Such a simple question, yet it seemed to have become a crossroads in his life, impossibly difficult to choose.
In the end, he lost the chance to answer at all. Feng Bing waited, waited, and then suddenly let out a huge sneeze. He hurriedly covered his burning-red face and walked a few steps away. Pei Dan heard him sniffing and knew he must have caught a chill from the wind. Without thinking, he said, “You wash first. I can keep watch.”
“…Mm.”
Feng Bing thought: these are extraordinary circumstances, and he shouldn’t be awkward or dawdling. Either way, he couldn’t freeze to death—besides, such a large hot spring was right before him. Without another word, he walked to the hot spring’s edge, then looked back.
The waterside pavilion sat on a slightly elevated bank. Through the red railing, he saw Pei Dan turned on his side, gazing attentively at the little wild rabbit—not looking his way at all. He felt a slight sense of relief, yet also an inexplicable tightness in his chest, as if the thick steam rising from the hot spring had wound itself around his breath and suffocated it.
He removed his garments one piece at a time, laid them on the bank, and waded into the water.
Pei Dan had been unconsciously toying with his dagger when the little wild rabbit, its belly full of grass, came to nuzzle his knee. Pei Dan hastily put the dagger away.
Behind him came the gentle sound of water flowing, like soft blades of grass sweeping across the sea floor, or like moonlight treading over a sandy beach. It was the grass and moonlight that had long ceased to be his.
For five long years, he was not above shamefully recalling the way Feng Bing bathed. In the damp, humid hours of late night, he would think of Feng Bing’s slender collarbones, that slim taper of his waist, and the view below his waist hidden beneath the water’s shadow. He would think of Feng Bing’s misty, clouded gaze—the mist gathering into clouds and rain, cold and scorching intertwined, sometimes tinged with a reasonless grievance. He was happy to be the one Feng Bing resented.
Pei Dan let out a soft breath. He reached out a finger and tapped the rabbit’s head, then tossed a stone far off into the distance. The rabbit, however, simply stared at him. He had to say quietly, “Go fetch it. Can you?”
To his surprise, the rabbit flopped flat on its back with a soft plop, all four legs splayed upward.
Pei Dan laughed despite himself and gently scratched the rabbit’s white belly. The rabbit squinted with pleasure and wrapped both tiny paws around Pei Dan’s finger.
Did Feng Bing, behind him, know what a shameless person he was?
“Pei Dan.” Suddenly, as if in answer to the voice in his heart, Feng Bing’s clear, crystalline voice rang out: “I still have a question to ask you.”
Pei Dan was stunned. The little wild rabbit bit down hard on his finger.
“Why exactly did you get hurt?”
Looking back, it’s already passed a hundred thousand words… I want long reviews, boo boo boo (reaching out a hand)