Chapter 61

The next day, when Wen Biesang woke up, Cheng Yun was no longer in the room.

The morning air in the village was damp, and a layer of dew coated the windowsills.

Low mist drifted across the sky, occasionally revealing the lush mountain cypresses above, looking as though they were growing straight out of the white clouds.

He sat leaning against the window for a while, breathing in the fresh mountain air and enjoying the ethereal scenery like a pavilion in the air, his eyes narrowed in leisurely contentment.

Cheng Yun's whereabouts had been unknown until he returned at noon, followed by Qi Song—who looked disheveled and clearly had not slept all night—and the members of the Pacification Department led by Lou Zhaoxi.

Only then did Wen Biesang learn that they had clashed with the people of Qi in the mountain forests yesterday.

The opponents had indeed wielded the snake-hand swords that Xie Lingshu had mentioned earlier.

Cheng Yun asked, "Did you find out which family he belongs to?"

Lou Zhaoxi replied, "We suspect he is from the Taishu family, likely Taishu Zhen, the third son of Taishu Qing. He is the only one who has traveled to the East China Sea to study under a master."

"No wonder." Cheng Yun looked at Wen Biesang and said, "It seems he found out your identity from somewhere and came to take you home."

"Who would want to go home with them?" Wen Biesang said without the slightest hesitation. "If he dares to come again, I will definitely beat him to a pulp."

Originally, the Taishu clan was merely a concept to him, but now, with the existence of Taishu Zhen, the enemies who had besieged and killed Taishu Wendao became entirely concrete. Those who caused his mother to lose her father could only be enemies in his eyes.

Before leaving the village, Cheng Yun had Lou Zhaoxi check on Uncle Liao.

Upon returning, Lou Zhaoxi shook his head. "He is too old, and the injury was sustained last winter. Too much time has passed; treating him again at this point would only bring him unnecessary suffering."

Cheng Yun lowered his gaze and said, "Work hard during this period and see if you can find a way to make him more comfortable."

Lou Zhaoxi nodded in agreement.

Leaving the village indeed required crossing a high mountain. The mountain path was winding and steep, and Wen Biesang looked back several times, feeling as though he might fall off at any moment.

During the steepest sections, Cheng Yun protected him from behind. Whenever Wen Biesang turned his head, he would meet that reassuring face.

At several rugged rocky spots, Cheng Yun moved to the front again, reaching out to pull Wen Biesang upward.

After much struggling, they finally descended the mountain just as darkness was falling.

"I used to always hear them say that mountain paths are difficult to traverse, but today I've truly experienced it." Back on flat ground, Lou Zhaoxi wiped the sweat from his face.

Qi Song deeply agreed. "There are quite a few people living in that mountain hollow. Who knows how their ancestors managed to survive generation after generation."

Wen Biesang had no particular thoughts on the matter; he was utterly exhausted. The moment his feet touched flat ground, he climbed into the carriage, and amidst the swaying motion, he fell fast asleep.

When he woke up the next day, his calves felt heavy and sore.

Wen Biesang ate a little, took a bath, and climbed back onto the bed.

He wasn't sleepy, but he just wanted to lounge around. His calves felt as though they were filled with lead. Wen Biesang tossed and turned twice on the bed, pulled out the vernacular novel Cheng Yun had brought, and began reading it with great relish.

The story was about a prince and a courtesan. The two met in the southern pavilion, and upon their first encounter, the prince developed lustful thoughts toward the courtesan and bought his first night.

The background description took up only a single page, but the first night was described in meticulous detail for a full three pages, complete with five illustrations. Wen Biesang read all the way through, finding the first night remarkably long the more he read.

Unconsciously, he rubbed against the bedsheets, tossing and turning a few times as he looked back and forth at the two comic-like illustrations.

Suddenly, a movement sounded by his ear. Wen Biesang looked up to find the bed curtains being lifted by Cheng Yun, who said, "Still not getting up?"

Wen Biesang gazed at him with teary eyes, his fair, tender cheeks flushed with a faint red.

Cheng Yun fixed his gaze and saw the book in his hand, right where the two illustrations were.

Wen Biesang made no deliberate attempt to hide it. He turned slightly on his side, reached out to pull up the hem of his robe to reveal his calves, and said softly, "My legs hurt."

Those two legs were slender, white, and flawless. At that moment, one was slightly bent, slowly rubbing against the other below.

The owner of the legs had soft, moist eyes and a clear gaze.

Cheng Yun: "..."

He swept his robes and sat down on the edge of the bed, reached out to take the other's legs, placed them on his own lap, and gently massaged them. "Then sleep a little longer."

Wen Biesang half-lay down, stretching both legs across Cheng Yun's lap—one being massaged, while the other kicked about playfully. Cheng Yun gripped his unruly foot and said, "I have things to attend to later, be good."

Wen Biesang pressed his face down gloomily and asked, "What things?"

"Important business."

Cheng Yun didn't sound like he was lying when he said he had important business. Over the next two days, Wen Biesang frequently could not find him. Fortunately, once his own legs healed, Wen Biesang also found things to keep him busy. Occasionally, when he emerged from the apothecary carrying his sore shoulders and looked out from a high vantage point, he could faintly spot the crown prince's carriages and horses amidst the distant mines.

Wen Biesang was baffled, having no idea what exactly he was busy with.

Ever since coming down from that cliff, Cheng Yun had worn a preoccupied look.

During dinner that evening, just as Wen Biesang sat down, he saw Cheng Yun lift the tent curtain and enter. The traditionally dignified robe was tucked up at his waist, and he was stained with some mud. After washing his hands in a wooden basin brought by a servant, Cheng Yun sat down opposite him, casually picked up a steamed bun, and took a light bite.

Wen Biesang lowered his gaze and quietly ate his own meal.

Finally noticing the unusual silence at the dinner table, Cheng Yun slightly withdrew from his own thoughts and asked, "Is the food not to your liking?"

Wen Biesang shook his head.

He looked exceptionally well-behaved. Cheng Yun belatedly realized that ever since he mentioned having important business, Wen Biesang had never actively sought him out to talk. At night, if Cheng Yun pulled him into his arms, he would rub against his chest like a little kitten; if Cheng Yun didn't reach out, the other person would remain completely quiet, not making a single sound.

He was just like a child afraid of adding trouble to the adults.

Cheng Yun dragged his chair closer to him and asked, "What's wrong? You look a bit unhappy."

Wen Biesang asked, "Are you done with your work?"

"More or less," Cheng Yun replied. "I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Wen Biesang put down his chopsticks and looked at him obediently.

"... But it seems you have something you want to tell me, too?"

"Is my matter less important than yours?"

He seemed worried that his own matters would interfere with Cheng Yun's business.

"Of course not," Cheng Yun said immediately. "Matters concerning you are the most important."

Wen Biesang seemed to gain confidence. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly turned his face away, picked up a steamed bun, and took a heavy bite out of it.

The transition from an obedient child to an angry bun took only a fraction of a second.

Clearly, he was fully invested in preparing to discuss the issue with him.

Cooperating, Cheng Yun picked up his chopsticks, picked up a piece of beef, brought it to Wen Biesang's mouth, and coaxed him.

Without thinking much, Wen Biesang ate it and was easily coaxed.

Chewing the savory beef, he asked, "Do you not like me anymore?"

The topic was entirely unexpected. Operating on reflex, Cheng Yun replied, "How could that be?"

"Mm," Wen Biesang said. "I was thinking about this question earlier, but I don't think that way anymore. You probably still like me; you've just been really busy lately."

Then why did you put on such an angry look...

Cheng Yun had the urge to hug him but held back, saying, "I really have been very busy. These past few days, I've been down by the mine shafts, trying to better understand the terrain of Wanlong Mountain."

"Then you went to the village again?"

"You could tell?"

"There were clouds over that direction at noon, and your shoes were covered in mud. It's obvious you went into the mountains."

"How smart." Cheng Yun praised him without hesitation. Reservedly, Wen Biesang took a sip of congee, wiped his mouth, and asked, "Did you go see Uncle Liao?"

"Mm," Cheng Yun replied. "Not just to see him. I... I want to discuss something with you."

He reached out, and Wen Biesang naturally placed his hand in his palm.

Unable to hold back any longer, Cheng Yun pulled him onto his lap, wrapped both arms around his waist, and said, "I've learned that villages like Uncle Liao's are quite numerous in these mountains. The young and strong manage, but when it comes to the elderly, many accidents happen. This is a problem caused by the terrain. To truly help them, there is only one way."

Wen Biesang tilted his head. "What way?"

Cheng Yun gazed at him, his voice soft and slow: "Blast the mountains."

Surprised yet not entirely unexpected, Wen Biesang said, "You mean use explosives to blast the mountains? To clear a path for them?"

"Mm." Cheng Yun lowered his gaze, gripping his hand. "Do you think it's feasible?"

"Feasible," Wen Biesang said. "Have you told them?"

"No." Cheng Yun seemed to exhale half a breath of relief. "There is a lot of saltpeter here, but I have little confidence in my own judgment, so I can only follow everyone, watching and learning as I go..."

"Even if you study, you'll only be a half-baked amateur," Wen Biesang said. "You should look for Old Sun. He has spent years in the Thunder and Fire Camp, knows the properties of saltpeter inside and out, and his home is nearby, so he's also familiar with the terrain. If we want to blast the mountain, we must know the specific conditions of the terrain to determine the dosage and placement of the gunpowder..."

"If we tell him, then the entire Thunder and Fire Camp—from soldiers to miners—will all know." Cheng Yun repeatedly stroked his hand. "However, blasting a mountain is a massive project. I cannot guarantee that everything will go smoothly, nor can I guarantee that everyone will be satisfied. If it fails—"

"Why must you make everyone satisfied?"

"Otherwise, wouldn't it be building up their hopes only to dash them?"

Wen Biesang hooked his arms around Cheng Yun's neck and pushed his chin upward, forcing Cheng Yun to slightly lift his jaw and meet his gaze.

"Why are you afraid of disappointing them?" Wen Biesang's fingers stroked back and forth along Cheng Yun's jawline. "You merely proposing to blast the mountain is enough to make your reputation soar, and every villager in Wanlong Mountain will hold hope in their hearts. As for whether the follow-up can proceed smoothly, is that really so important?"

Cheng Yun's brow was high and deep, his pupils currently dark and even more profound.

"Blasting the mountain is a deed that benefits future generations. If it truly succeeds, elderly folk like Uncle Liao will no longer have to suffer in their twilight years. But if it fails—"

"If it fails, it has nothing to do with you," Wen Biesang said. "You have the capability and the intention, and your willingness to do this is already a supreme grace to them. Whether it succeeds is up to the arrangement of fate; what does it have to do with you?"

Before Cheng Yun could speak, Wen Biesang continued, "Your first half of life has been far too smooth, which is why you think every success is taken for granted. Palace Prince Cheng Yun, you are human, not a god. Humans always face things beyond their power, and disappointing others is something everyone does every day. What difference does it make if there's one more time with you?"

"I just feel that blasting the mountain is a matter of great importance..."

"That's precisely why we need everyone to pull together," Wen Biesang said earnestly. "You've been pondering this all by yourself for days, have you made any headway?"