Chapter 26
Chapter 26
“… What did you call me?”
“Brother He,” Chen Shu said, blinking sluggishly as if struggling to widen her eyes. “Aren’t you Brother He?”
He Yu also paused his chopsticks, taking the empty bowl beside Chen Shu’s hand and sniffing it carefully. “It is indeed mare’s milk, undiluted with anything else. Strange. Back in Mengcheng when we drank, I recall her alcohol tolerance being better than mine.”
“You ungrateful rascal! How could our family’s mare’s milk be diluted with anything!” Yan Ji loudly protested his innocence. “The girl just can’t stomach dairy!”
“But why would she inexplicably be unaccustomed to milk? Little Shu looks to have been raised by a respectable family. It’s not like the price of milk is as steep as gold anymore—even peddlers manage to give their children some throughout the year. If she truly couldn’t drink it, she ought to know herself.” He Yu paused, then reached out to pat Chen Shu’s shoulder, making her look at him. “Come now, who do you think I am?”
“Who are you… do you not even know that yourself?” Chen Shu tilted her head, her tone laced with bewilderment. “Are you confused?”
He Yu froze, unable to speak for a long moment.
Under the evening haze, the entire courtyard seemed to fall silent, save for Yan Ji’s eruption of laughter. He kept chanting “How amusing,” only to stifle his chuckles and help himself to more food when He Yu turned a furious glare upon him.
Amidst this tension swirling between He Yu and Yan Ji, Chen Shu promptly swiveled her body back. Resting her chin on one hand, she gazed at Yun Shen with a dazed yet intense focus.
Without lanterns, the simple square table and four stools stood haphazardly on the barren ground—east one, west another. Yet her stool had been nudged so close to Yun Shen’s that, leaning her chin forward like this, she could nearly see her own flushed reflection in his eyes.
Yun Shen said nothing, watching her silently. Yet his gaze was not as vacant as hers. It was calm, unnervingly so, like a pool of stagnant water, as though deliberately suppressing something. The two locked eyes, motionless, until even He Yu noticed. Leaning across the table, he stretched his body towards them, waving a hand before Chen Shu’s face.
She jolted awake with a gasp, sniffled, and once again addressed Yun Shen: “Brother He…”
He Yu could only drag her back with a mixture of amusement and resignation, asking patiently, “Since you’re calling everyone that, why won’t you recognize me?”
“Why should I recognize you?” Struggling to wrench herself free from his grip, Chen Shu complained aggrievedly, “You’re such a strange person. I’m having a serious discussion with Brother He. Why do you constantly interrupt?”
Even He Yu was stumped by this, mouth hanging open without uttering a sound. He remained gaping wordlessly for a while before finally letting out a sigh of exasperation, allowing Chen Shu to swivel back to her previous position.
She resumed her bleary-eyed staring at Yun Shen. Though slightly livelier than before, as if she had finished the process of daydreaming contemplation, she now truly picked up where she’d left off:
“Brother He, I have serious matters to…”
This time, Yun Shen cut her off.
His cheek twitched slightly—like tensed jaw muscles—before releasing a barely audible sound, half-laugh, half-sigh. At last, a flicker of genuine emotion breached the depths of his inscrutable gaze.
Yan Ji was savoring his food heartily. He Yu observed them helplessly. Yet Yun Shen looked at none but Chen Shu. Colder than still water, his icy stare seemed designed to paralyze her.
“Little Shu,” he inquired softly, “How did you recognize me as He Yu?”
“You ask that too?” Chen Shu paused, contemplated, and tried earnestly to disentangle her thoughts by counting on her fingers—only making herself more perplexed. Finally, she threw her hands up and simply abandoned the effort. “I just thought you looked… felt familiar somehow. Isn’t there—”
“‘Felt familiar somehow’?” Having savored plenty of food, Yan Ji teasingly cut in with a chuckle. “What kind of feeling? That feeling that this man before you stands to get rich?”
Before Chen Shu could respond, He Yu had already stood up. His face—be it the eyepatch, the deeply furrowed brow, or the downturned lips—looked particularly dreadful in the twilight, half-shadowed.
“Are you done eating?” he snapped. “If you’re full, go back to your own courtyard!”
“Hardly a few bites! I slept all day; my stomach is empty!” Utterly unfazed, Yan Ji actually played the coy card. Grabbing another succulent piece of meat, sinew and all, he stuffed it into his mouth and stayed firmly seated on his little stool. “Can’t I make a joke? Why the anger?”
“Mock me and I won’t quarrel with you. But mocking Little Shu—that goes too far.” He Yu said sternly, glancing down at Chen Shu before pointing her out to Yan Ji for emphasis. “Moreover, look how drunk she is!”
“I’m not drunk!” Chen Shu loudly cut in, swaying slightly as she stretched a wavering finger towards Yun Shen this time. “You’re mistaken! Brother He is the one who’s drunk!”
At this moment, Yun Shen’s face had long lost its smile, though the dim dusk obscured visibility, so he didn’t appear cold.
He still remembered to slightly curve the corners of his eyes as he spoke: “Why say I’m drunk?”
“Because… because…” Chen Shu glanced at the two sitting opposite, Brother He and Yan Ji, waved to Yun Shen, and said, “Come closer, Brother He, I’ll only tell you.”
“Ah?”
He Yu made a puzzled sound, looked down, and saw Yun Shen looking utterly composed, as if he had everything figured out; without a word, he truly leaned over under the name of “He Yu.”
“You speak, they can’t hear now,” he lied, eyes wide open.
“I remember I wanted to get you drunk!” Chen Shu said gleefully, “So, are you drunk? You’re drunk, right!”
“I am drunk,” Yun Shen said.
It was said that it was only for his ears, but this exchange wasn’t lowered in volume at all; the other two were just a table away and heard everything clearly.
Unlike Yun Shen’s calm demeanor, He Yu stood diagonally across the small table, hand poised to grab Yan Ji’s collar; it was like a sudden thunderclap, leaving him unsure whether to proceed or retreat. He stood there dumbfounded, frozen for a good while, looking utterly unable to accept it. Even Yan Ji by his side regained his senses and seized the chance to duck and dodge it.
Just then, Yan Ji had finished gnawing the bone in his mouth, deftly spat it back into the bowl, clapped his hands, and spoke, eager to stir trouble.
“Look, look, little girl, I admire you even more now, for this—ah!” Before he could finish, He Yu abruptly yanked him up from the stool, causing Yan Ji to yell repeatedly, “What? Losing face is fine, violence isn’t the answer, Brother He—”
“Since you won’t return on your own, I’ll drag you back to your courtyard!” He Yu said through gritted teeth.
He kicked open the courtyard gate, wading through the twilight, dragging the cursing Yan Ji toward the yards of Linbo Prefecture. The two figures vanished swiftly, but Yan Ji’s intermittent curses still echoed between the high walls, lingering for a long time.
Yun Shen then stood up as well; without those two, his expression grew colder, as if the slightest loosening of his face would open a fissure, unleashing a torrent of emotions.
But before him was only Chen Shu, dazed and drunk, looking up in confusion.
He bent slightly, patted the ends of Chen Shu’s hair, and said in a deep voice: “I see you can’t eat any more either; go back to your room. It’s dark, deep autumn, easy to catch a chill.”
Chen Shu didn’t argue, nodding slowly and obediently; she braced herself on the table to stand, muttering, “Brother He thinks of everything.”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
That sounded rather perfunctory.
The tantalizing steam from the feast on the small table still seemed to drift out, but Chen Shu no longer cared, even though an hour earlier she had been buzzing around excitedly for the meal. Her round eyes remained fixed on Yun Shen, her expression shifting slowly from bewilderment—first her eyebrows furrowed, then her nose wrinkled up—clearly struggling to think, her whole face straining.
Since she wanted to get He Yu drunk, there must have been a plan; she finally realized, belatedly, that she seemed to have forgotten something.
“If you can’t remember, don’t force it, drunkard,” Yun Shen said, taking both their wrists and guiding them toward the room, adding casually, “Brother He will take care of you, so no worries.”
“Exactly,” Chen Shu instinctively agreed, then, after a pause, added, “Unlike Brother Yun, whom I have to look after!”
Hearing this, Yun Shen turned around, met her innocent gaze, said nothing, but tightened his grip on her wrists and quickened his pace toward the room.
Unexpectedly, Chen Shu hadn’t mentioned Yun Shen all evening, nor even thought of him; once she started, it seemed unstoppable. Led by Yun Shen, she kept chattering, pouring out all the things unsaid, tilting her head back and muttering repeatedly: “And he always likes to nag, meddles too much, more than my master does, smiling all day, yet I can’t shake the feeling it’s not really—”
After two sentences, as she started a third, Yun Shen abruptly halted, not turning back; instead, he pulled Chen Shu’s wrist to face him, gave her a heavy look, then released her hand and said tonelessly: “Then if one day that annoying Brother Yun left, you probably wouldn’t miss him at all.”
“I probably…”
For a good while, Chen Shu just stared dumbly at Yun Shen, repeating only the first three words; the rest vanished like mud sinking in the ocean. Her mouth hung open without words, gaping awkwardly, unsure how to shut. Whether from renewed drunkenness or a slow, unconscious standoff, only she knew.
The small courtyard fell quiet again.
The night wind grew cooler, carrying faint whistles; the last glow of sunset gradually faded, the red vanishing, making it easy to notice that the full moon had long hung silently in the sky, half-hidden and indistinct.
“You’re not Brother He,” Chen Shu suddenly frowned, saying clearly, “Brother He would never say such strange things.”