Chapter 52 (2/2)

I gnashed my teeth. Hey…this guy was really taking advantage of all weaknesses. If it wasn’t for the wine, he wouldn’t dare to make me to even small favors for him. Well…this wasn’t right.

“Lord Hua,” I frowned, leaning over the desk to remind him kindly. “If I’m not mistaken, this is my room?”

He stopped his brush, only turning slightly to look at me. “Then it’s fine if you carry my things to the study instead.”

The study?!

The study…wasn’t a good place to go…not after I made a mess inside. There probably wasn’t even room for a person to stand. Did this person find out beforehand and came to find fault with me?

“That’s right,” he looked at me with bright eyes. “I haven’t seen Shào’er all afternoon, have you?”

My bl.u.s.ter suddenly died down significantly as I obediently bent my head to grind him ink. What if Fang Hua’s treasured parrot met with trouble after escaping from my clutches? I was uneasy and fidgety for a long while before stealing a look at him. He didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t replied.

Forget it, I won’t ask him why he didn’t go to his own study to paint and write. I estimated that he’d just say only my room had a desk or something. The one in his room couldn’t be called a desk, but more of a dressing table.

I endured.

In any case…all the rooms in this house were his. A hand supported my head as I ground ink for him. My heart wasn’t in it though, my eyes too focused on straying to the red teardrop-shaped mole beneath his eye. It made him look like he was weeping…

The section of silk said that the color of the Beast’s mole is paler when he is younger, but will naturally darken to blackish red, dark red, and pitch black, upon which the Fang Hua Beast will die. After thinking it over for a while, my hand stopped moving and I grew still.

“There’s no more ink,” a light, leisurely voice floated above my head.

“Oh.”

“What are you thinking about?”

My head was lowered as I scooped up my sleeves, dripping clear water on the inkslab. Then I took the inkstone to the surface to grind, all fl.u.s.tered as I said in a rush, “I was wondering when you’d die.”

After that line, he gave a mournful smile, one that reached his eyes and made his face ashen pale. This was worse than no smile at all, and made the mole by his eye stand out like a plum blossom in the midst of snow, a cruel but profound sort of beauty. I felt at a loss, before adding on, “You know…I, I didn’t meant it in that way.”

His smile was light, but he stopped the movements of his brush and didn’t say a word.

I didn’t want to curse him to his death. Just that…just that I didn’t want to believe the words on the silk. If they were true, then the beautiful man before me didn’t have much time left. The silence in the room was a little abnormal. I knew I was in the wrong, and continued to ground the ink with my head lowered. Though I made careful motions with the ink stick, my hands were still shaking.

Really…I regretted so much that I even felt like ripping my mouth off.

“It’s been a while, but I still haven’t died yet. I’ve troubled you.”

Fang Hua put his brush aside and idled in his chair, looking at me. He didn’t say much, but poured himself a cup of wine and slowly sniffed it, saying softly, “This was the wine we brewed together awhile ago, do you want a cup?”

I didn’t take it.

He smiled, eyebrows arching slightly before emptying the entire cup and refilling it again. There was a hint of indescribable sorrow in his eyes, and his brows seemed rather desolate.

“Don’t drink so much…” At a loss, I could only watch him helplessly.

“There’s no harm,” he said gently, before covering his mouth with his right hand. It wasn’t hard to see that he’d choked on the wine, enough to cough until a hint of red bloomed on his white face.

“Why do you suffer so, fighting with your body like this?” My voice was small and weak. Recently, Fang Hua’s body had gotten weakened, but he drank more than before. Only a short while had left his snow white robes stained with alcohol, his whole body smelling of the scent of flowers mixed with wine. I couldn’t bear to look anymore, and reached out to s.n.a.t.c.h the jug away from him.

“A bit of wine lifts the spirits,” he scooped up his sleeves and s.n.a.t.c.hed it back.

“…you’re drinking like an ox.”

He wasn’t so much drinking wine as he was pouring it down. I wanted to rage and laugh at the same time, but I couldn’t figure out what to do with him.

“I may be drinking like an ox, but elegant drinking comes from the heart,” his eyebrows knitted in a way that inspired empathy, one hand swaying as it pointed to his head. Those pale fingers used strength to grip onto the front of his s.h.i.+rt jacket as he glanced at him, before he toppled forwards onto the table. His body relaxed, elegant fingers pinching the wine cup as he took a breath to roll on his back. Staring at the roofbeams, he laughed. “I don’t have the heart, so why should I care so much? You only live this life once, so live in a way that makes your heart happy.”

Finished, he looked towards me, all elegant eyebrows and neat hair framing a pair of long and narrow eyes half-closed from tipsiness. The golden sunlight from the window shone on his body and seemed to form its own separate layer, making him as beautiful as a painting.

My gaze turned soft.

This person always did exactly as he wished. From the beginning, I’d never taking his insight or experiences into consideration.

“It’s lonely for one person to drink. Why don’t you have a cup with me?” he managed to prop himself up with difficulty, his clothes still in somewhat order. He a.s.sumed a comfortable sprawl on the desk and reached over to grab me. I stilled, before shaking my head. He didn’t hold his liquor well. If I got drunk with him, who’d take care of him afterwards? Fang Hua managed with difficulty as he looked at me, before smiling slightly as he rested his head on his hand. With his robes draped over his form, he turned to the side and hugged to wine jar in his lap and s.p.a.ced out…

He seemed to be thinking of something, or perhaps he was reminiscing. He was probably remembering his beautiful days at the imperial court, maybe when Han Zichuan spent nights drinking with him…

“Don’t drink anymore,” I caught him by the hand and paused. “Cold wine will hurt the body.”

His thin lips quirked up at the corners, sinking into his skin in a helpless smile, yet so tragic…

After a breath, I raised my robes before settling to sit by his side, quietly watching him as I took the wine jug away from his hands. He struggled slightly before letting me take it away.

“Recently, I’ve been remembering things from the past constantly day and night…I think, I really do regret.”

A simple and honest voice rose mixed with the tones of drunken stupor to float in the air, gentle yet somehow suffocating. My entire body seized up, suddenly sensing a heavy weight by my shoulder. I looked and saw him appearing weary, his head resting on my shoulder. His eyes were closed and his face was deathly pale. The air around us turned equivocal, and my helpless limbs remained in place as I sat stock straight, trying to think of a conversation topic to break this abnormal mood. But the meaning of my words changed as soon as they left my mouth.

“The emperor has a higher alcohol tolerance than you, he wouldn’t get drunk so quickly.”

“Un.”

“Han Zichuan looks like he’d be hard to talk to, but he’s a good person. Just like how the servants say he speaks easily but treats people certain ways with reason, you have to get close to him before he treats you well.”

“Un.” He seemed to tiring, exhaustion resting on his eyelids. “Han Zichuan likes women, he likes you.” I fell silent, nerves taut enough to explode. Now the atmosphere was even stranger than before.

I suddenly rose to my feet. “The firewood hasn’t been split yet, I’ll go do that.”

He tugged me by the hand, saying softly, “There’s no need.”

“Ah…clothes. Yesterday night’s robes were still soaking in the water and need to be washed, I’ll take them to the stream.”

“When have I ever let you go wash the clothes?” he raised his head to look at me, slipping his hand through my fingers in a show of tender care.

That’s right. I’ve been in the wrong.

While he was sick and said I was taking care of him, he was still doing these sorts of ch.o.r.es. His medicine…most of it had gotten into my stomach instead. In one moment, I fully experienced the condemnation of my conscience.

“I-I-I-I….it’s time for you to take your medicine, I’ll see if it’s finished boiling yet,” I will so filled to bursting that my neck had started turning red. I couldn’t decide where to put my hands and feet, but he managed to grab my robes as he sprawled on the table, his face red from intoxication. He stood up and gave a sharp tug…and in the next moment, had me pressed to the ground in surprise. A body thick with the fumes of alcohol rested atop me, and the hands he’d pressed above my head hurt from the force used on them.

“The Heavens told me that I’d meet someone who could be by my side my entire life in this reincarnation. I believed in that firmly without any doubt.” He slowly drew closer to me, reaching a hand out to comfort my cheek as he stared. The mole beneath his eye still resembled a red teardrop. “I’ve already confirmed it with my eyes. You clearly love me, but you just don’t realize it.” He wanted to cry, yet persist in speaking. I’m not blaming you. I really don’t.

At this moment, he held me tight in his arms, his hot breath brus.h.i.+ng past my neck. My heart was on the verge of stopping, so alarmed and confused did I feel. Still, my eyes softened as he whispered a person’s name in my ear. Three quiet characters, like a ladle of cold water pouring down until my hands and feet turned cold.

“You’ve mistaken me for someone else,” I forcefully pushed him aside. He propped a hand on the ground and turned away to m.u.f.fled his coughing in his sleeves. It seemed to put him in agony, but he only smiled helplessly.

“…Lord Hua, are you all right?” I couldn’t help but press nearer for a better look.

And yet he suddenly grabbed my hand again, pulling me towards him. He was so drunk he couldn’t even tell people apart anymore. His head rested on my shoulders, black hair pooling down past my neck as his warm body held me tight. Word by word, he spoke.

“Don’t leave me.”

Between our positions I could hear the sound of a heart pounding, but I couldn’t tell if it was his or mine.. The sweet-smelling fragrance of alcohol filled both our nostrils. My heart wasn’t happy at all, but slowly returned to its calm state. As soon as he drank, he’d start rambling nonsense. Last time he got drunk he even chased after the parrot, calling it Shao’er and saying it was time to bathe him. But this time I had clearly heard the name he’d spoken…

Fang Hua had already closed his eyes and fallen asleep on my knee. He clutched my hands to his chest, those snow white robes showing a hint of the blue robes within. His drooping eyes caught the warm light and used it to block his expressions.

Did he think I was ‘that’ person?

This fool really felt deeply, but it was so hard to hate him for it.

Outside the window, the wind blew through the bamboo, stirring up the mourning calls of swallows. It sounded as if someone was crying…

I stole a peek at his knitted eyebrows, that exceptional desolation on his sleeping features, my heart heaving up and down. I was filled with a guilty conscience. This person deserved someone to love him as well. Within his remaining days, I’d do everything to treat him better.

-o-  Original and most updated translations are from volaretranslations.

[1] grandaunt (姑奶奶) － gunainai, apparently used by a woman when she’s quarreling. A way of referring to oneself as an elder, or superior, to the other party.