Chapter 31

Sheng Xuan looked at Su Zhelan's reddened eyes and her flustered retreat, and his heart sank. His previous smugness was instantly overshadowed by regret.

He took two steps forward and, just before Su Zhelan was about to step into the stream, gently wrapped his arms around his waist from behind.

His arms weren't tightly wrapped around her, yet they held a gentle tenderness that left no room for escape. His palms pressed against the fabric of Su Zhelan's light green long gown, and he could clearly feel her rapid heartbeat beneath them. Sheng Xuan's forehead rested against the back of Su Zhelan's neck, his breath hot as if on fire, his voice hoarse: "I'm sorry... Zhelan, I'm sorry."

Su Zhelan's body stiffened instantly, as if he had been frozen in place, and his struggling movements abruptly stopped. The heat from his lower back was too intense, making his fingertips tremble, and he tightened his grip on the hem of his clothes, causing deep wrinkles to form in the fabric.

"It's my fault," Sheng Xuan's voice was filled with a panic rarely seen in a young man, as if afraid of disturbing something, and he loosened his grip on her arm. "I was too hasty, I shouldn't... I shouldn't have treated you like that."

He wanted to say that he just liked him too much, so much that he couldn't help but smile when he saw him, so much that he wanted to give his heart to him when he heard him say he was happy. But when the words came out, they all turned into incoherent apologies, "Don't be angry, and don't avoid me... I just... I just like you too much."

The red ribbon behind her neck was tangled even more by their movements, half wrapped around Sheng Xuan's wrist and half hooked around Su Zhelan's collar, the vermilion color twisted into a knot on the light blue fabric, like an unbreakable knot.

The wind carried peach petals that landed on their shoulders. Su Zhelan could smell the scent of grass mixed with sweat on Sheng Xuan's body, as well as that familiar, impetuous yet sincere aura that belonged to the young general.

He tried to push him away, but the moment his fingertips touched the back of Sheng Xuan's hand, the other gently pressed them down. Sheng Xuan's fingertips, calloused, brushed against his fingertips, as if pleading, "Let me hold you for a while... just a little while."

Amidst the babbling brook, Su Zhelan heard his own heart pounding against Sheng Xuan's arm. His struggles gradually faded, but his shoulders trembled uncontrollably—whether it was anger, panic, or something else, he couldn't quite say.

All he knew was the temperature of the body behind him, so hot that even his breathing trembled, like a stone thrown into the center of a lake, disrupting all his pretense of calm.

“I really…like you.” Shengxuan’s voice was close to his ear, as soft as a sigh, yet as heavy as a promise, “It’s not just a passing fancy.”

Su Zhelan took a deep breath, and the rise and fall of his chest gradually subsided. His mind, which had been filled with anger and panic, was now like being washed by a stream, slowly settling into a helpless clarity. He could clearly feel how tight the arms around him were, with the stubbornness of a young man refusing to let go, yet also hiding a hint of cautious probing.

The red ribbon behind their necks was still wrapped between them, gently brushing against their skin in the wind, causing a slight itch. Su Zhelan moved his fingers, the trembling at his fingertips slowly subsiding. He turned his head, his voice still hoarse from the recent trembling, but much more steady than before: "I understand."

Sheng Xuan's arm suddenly stiffened, as if he hadn't expected him to say that, and he even held his breath.

"Could you... loosen your grip first?" Su Zhelan's tone had lost its previous anger, leaving only a kind of weary helplessness. "It's so tight I can hardly breathe."

These words were like a soft thorn, gently pricking Sheng Xuan. Sheng Xuan immediately released his hand, his movements so quick they were almost frantic, as if afraid of hurting him again.

The moment the arm left, Su Zhelan felt a sudden chill on his back. He instinctively took half a step forward, and only turned around after regaining his balance.

Sunlight fell between the two of them. Su Zhelan avoided Sheng Xuan's bright eyes and lowered her head to straighten her disheveled clothes. The collar of her light green robe was askew, and the red silk ribbon behind her neck hung loosely, covered with a peach petal that she hadn't brushed off earlier.

“I…” Sheng Xuan wanted to say something, but Su Zhelan raised her hand to interrupt him.

"Stop talking." Su Zhelan pressed her fingertips to her lips, where a tingling sensation still lingered. "I know what you mean. Let me... let me think about it."

A breeze swirled peach petals, which drifted past and landed on the grass at their feet. Sheng Xuan noticed his averted gaze and the unconscious stroking of his collar with his fingertips. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally nodded, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible hint of grievance: "Okay."

The stream was still flowing gently, and three horses were swishing their tails under the trees, as if no one dared to break the moment of tranquility.

As Su Zhelan gazed at the golden scales shimmering on the water, she suddenly felt that the wind in this peach blossom forest seemed heavier than when she arrived, carrying an indescribable feeling that lingered in her hair and weighed on her heart.

The breeze by the stream carries the sweetness of peach blossoms, but when it blows into the shade behind the trees, it takes on a coolness.

Xiao Qiyun tightened his grip on the mint, his fingertips squeezing the leaves until they wrinkled, and the green juice seeped out from between his fingers, carrying a bitter smell.

He had been standing here since the moment Sheng Xuan wrapped his arms around Su Zhelan's waist. The shadows of the trees obscured his face, revealing only half of his eyes as he gazed at the two intertwined figures by the stream.

Seeing Su Zhelan's reddened eyes as she struggled, seeing Sheng Xuan's trembling voice as he apologized, seeing the red ribbon wrapped around their wrists like a blazing fire.

"I was here first," he thought to himself silently, his fingertips digging into his palm as the bitter taste of mint mixed with the smell of blood rose up.

From the faded old clothes Su Zhelan wore when he first entered the General's Mansion, to the scar he dared not show behind the bandage on the back of his neck; from the meticulous care he received since entering the mansion, to the jade pendant he had worn for many years... He did so much and kept it hidden for so long, yet he was always beaten to it by Sheng Xuan's reckless and impulsive nature.

Hiding behind the tree, when he heard Sheng Xuan say, "I really like you," his throat tightened, and he almost crushed the mint in his hand.

Seeing the reddened corners of Su Zhelan's eyes when she turned around, and seeing Sheng Xuan's aggrieved look despite having gotten a good deal, he suddenly smiled—his hand, hidden in his sleeve, slowly loosened, the crushed mint was thrown into the grass, his fingertips quietly wiped the juice off his clothes, and even his eyes softened into a gentle expression.

Xiao Qiyun straightened his slightly disheveled long robe, the fabric gleaming softly in the sunlight. When he looked up again, the shadows in his eyes had completely dissipated, leaving only his usual gentleness, with a touch of just the right amount of bewilderment.

“I picked some mint,” he said, emerging from behind the tree with a half-basket of green leaves, his voice clear and gentle like freshly filtered stream water. “Why are you standing here?”

Her steps were light, as if she hadn't noticed the stiffness by the stream. When her gaze fell on Su Zhelan's loose collar and Sheng Xuan's reddened ears, she paused for a moment, then smiled with concern.

As Xiao Qiyun approached with the mint basket, his gaze first fell on Su Zhelan's lips—they were an unnatural red, and the corners of her lips were slightly swollen, as if they had been repeatedly crushed by something. Even the tiny wound caused by her teeth was clearly visible.

My fingertips curled into a fist inside my sleeve, and the bitter taste of mint filled my throat, even more astringent than the crushed leaves I had just squeezed.

He understood almost instantly—Sheng Xuan had not only said it, but also done it. The dark thoughts hidden beneath the gentle exterior surged up instantly, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, wanting nothing more than to rush up and tear open that kiss mark, to scrape away that unsightly red stain with his fingernails.

But the thought only flashed in his eyes for half a second before he suppressed it completely.

"Ze Lan, why don't you look well?" He frowned slightly, his tone full of concern, even more so than usual. "Why are your lips so red? Did the wind chapp them?"

As he spoke, he walked forward naturally, deliberately going around to Su Zhelan's front, just in time to block Sheng Xuan's view. He reached out to touch Su Zhelan's forehead, but his fingertips stopped in mid-air. He then picked up the water bottle on the stone and said, "I'll go to the stream to get some water, brew some mint, and soothe my throat."

His movements were so fluid, as if he'd rehearsed a thousand times. Even the way his shirt brushed against Su Zhelan's knees when he bent over was perfectly intimate. Only the white knuckles gripping the water bottle betrayed the barely suppressed anger within him—he'd been there first, so why was Sheng Xuan able to steal all the attention with a rash kiss?

The wind swirled peach petals that landed on his hair. As Xiao Qiyun raised his hand to brush them away, he gave Su Zhelan a gentle smile, his eyes clear and filled with concern: "Sit and wait for me, don't move around."

It was as if the person behind the tree, clutching mint leaves and with gloomy eyes, was just an illusion created by the sunlight, but the slightly trembling mint leaves at the bottom of the basket revealed the unknown undercurrent behind the tree.

Xiao Qiyun squatted by the stream. As the kettle was submerged in the water, ripples spread out. He gently brushed aside the drifting peach petals, afraid of contaminating them. After filling the kettle, he picked a few whole mint leaves from the basket, crushed them between his fingertips, and put them into the kettle with movements as light as if he were handling fragile porcelain.

"The mint needs to be heated a little hot to bring out its flavor," he said softly, as if explaining to himself, or perhaps specifically to Su Zhelan.

Sunlight fell on his profile, and his moon-white robe was reflected in the stream, making it appear lighter. Even the fingers holding the kettle seemed gentle, as if the fist he had just clenched in his sleeve was just an illusion.

After the water cooled slightly, he walked back to the stone and handed the kettle to Su Zhelan. Thin white steam was still rising from the spout, mixed with the bitter aroma of mint: "Drink slowly, it's freshly brewed."

Su Zhelan reached out and took it, his fingertips touching the temperature of the pot's surface—neither too hot nor too cold, just right. He lowered his head and took a sip; the slightly bitter yet sweet taste slid down his throat, instantly easing the tightness in his throat from the kiss.

When she looked up, she saw Sheng Xuan staring at her, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something.

Su Zhelan's eyes immediately turned cold, her brows furrowed slightly, still bearing the lingering redness, yet conveying a warning—her eyes held panic, helplessness, and a hint of annoyance that seemed to say, "Try speaking again."

Sheng Xuan's words caught in his throat, as if something was blocking his throat. He looked at Su Zhelan's reddened eyes and tightly pursed lips. All the explanations he wanted to give and the determination he wanted to express were suppressed by that look. He could only swallow his Adam's apple and obediently shut his mouth. However, his gaze was still fixed on Su Zhelan's hand holding the water bottle, like a large dog that had been trained.

Xiao Qiyun took in the whole scene. As he bent down to tidy the mint basket, a very faint smile appeared on his lips, as fleeting as smoke in the wind. He picked up a whole mint leaf and gently placed it on the stone next to Su Zhelan: "If you find it bitter, there's sugar here."

Sunlight filtered through the peach branches, casting dappled patterns of light between the three people.

Su Zhelan sipped her mint water, Sheng Xuan looked at him without daring to speak, while Xiao Qiyun sat quietly to the side, twirling a mint leaf between his fingers. The sound of the flowing stream carried an unspoken silence among the three of them.

The sound of the stream was exceptionally clear in the silence, and peach petals fell one after another onto the stones, accumulating a thin layer of pinkish-white.

Su Zhelan's fingers tightened around the kettle, the warmth slowly dissipating until only a trace of warmth remained in her palm. A breeze carrying dampness drifted over from the water, causing the silk ribbon to sway gently, and a cool sensation crept into her collar.

He suddenly sighed softly, his voice carried away by the wind: "The wind is getting a bit strong, making me sleepy."

Her fingertips traced the rim of the kettle, her gaze fixed on the peach grove in the distance. "That's enough for today... I want to go back and rest."

The exhaustion in his voice was genuine. From setting off in the early morning until the chaos just now, his nerves had been on edge the whole time. Now that he had relaxed, he felt tired even from the very marrow of his bones.

“Okay.” Xiao Qiyun responded almost immediately, standing up slowly from the rock, as if afraid of disturbing something. “If you’re tired, you should go back early. If you stay any longer, it might get windy, and you’ll catch a cold.”

He bent down to tidy up the mint basket on the stone, and then casually folded the cushion next to Su Zhelan. "Do you need me to help you?"

Su Zhelan shook her head, and stood up by supporting herself on the stone edge. Her knees were still a little stiff, but she did not stumble again.

Sheng Xuan, who had been holding back for a while, finally found an opportunity to speak. His voice was a little muffled: "I'll go get the horse." He turned and walked towards the peach tree, his steps faster than when he came. The cloak of his black riding outfit fluttered in the wind, but he didn't dare to look back at Su Zhelan, as if he was afraid of being glared at again.

Su Zhelan watched his retreating figure, the wrinkles on her brows relaxing slightly, but she remained silent. He handed the water bottle back to Xiao Qiyun; a little less than half a bottle of mint water remained at the bottom, and when it swayed, it reflected the faint blue shadows under his eyes.

"Let's go," he said softly, taking two steps toward the carriage. The wind lifted the hem of his light blue robe, revealing a section of thin white sock at his ankle, speckled with bits of grass.

Xiao Qiyun quickly caught up, walking half a step behind him, her arm outstretched as if to protect him from the wind: "Slow down." Her gaze swept over the peach petals clinging to his hair, and she raised her hand to brush them away, but stopped in mid-air, instead supporting his arm. "Should I ask Sheng Xuan to bring the carriage over?"

“No need,” Su Zhelan shook her head, her voice as soft as a whisper, “It’s good to walk around and clear my head.”

In the distance, the sound of Shengxuan leading his horse could be heard, and the soft neighing of Xuediandiao mixed with the sound of the reins breaking the momentary silence.

Su Zhelan looked up and saw Sheng Xuan leading three horses toward her. The black horse and the white horse were side by side, and the Snow Eagle was led at the very front. A peach blossom had been pinned to its mane, swaying in the wind.

The three horses trod back through the fallen petals, saying nothing along the way. The wind was a bit heavier than when they came, carrying the golden glow of the setting sun.

Su Zhelan rode on the snow-spotted eagle, his back ramrod straight, yet he always felt a chill on the back of his neck—he knew without turning around that Sheng Xuan's gaze was fixed on his back, carrying a hint of unspoken grievance; while Xiao Qiyun beside him would occasionally reach out to tidy up his cloak that had been blown open by the wind, his fingertips brushing against his shoulder line as light as feathers, and would whisper a reminder, "There are pebbles ahead, sit tight."

These small acts of concern, when seen by Shengxuan, felt like tiny needles.

He rode behind on his black horse, watching Xiao Qiyun's moon-white robe constantly brush against Su Zhelan's light blue fabric, watching Su Zhelan's profile as she occasionally tilted her head to listen to Xiao Qiyun speak. His Adam's apple bobbed repeatedly, and his hand gripping the reins turned white. He was the one who confessed his feelings first, so how did he suddenly become a bystander?

Upon arriving at the starting point, the attendants were already waiting by the carriage. Seeing them return, they hurried forward to lead the horses: "Young masters, you've returned? The carriage is ready."

Just as Su Zhelan was about to dismount, Xiao Qiyun had already landed first, placing his hand on the horse's flank for support. Seeing this, Sheng Xuan also abruptly reined in his black horse, his movement almost startling the horse. He strode over to the Snow-Pointed Eagle and, before Xiao Qiyun could react, pressed down on Su Zhelan's knees: "I'll do it!"

The moment her fingertips touched Su Zhelan's trousers, the other party gently avoided them.

Su Zhelan jumped down from the stirrups herself, stumbled a bit, and was steadily supported by Xiao Qiyun.

Sheng Xuan's hand froze in mid-air as she watched Xiao Qiyun brush the grass clippings off Su Zhelan's long robe and Su Zhelan bow her head and say "thank you" to Xiao Qiyun. The jealousy she had been holding back all the way suddenly exploded.

"I'm tired," he suddenly said, his voice a little sharp, as if he were sulking. "The ride is so bumpy my bones hurt. I want to take a carriage back to the manor."

Xiao Qiyun paused, holding Su Zhelan's hand, and looked up at him. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but then he smiled gently: "That's fine. The carriage is more stable and comfortable than riding a horse."

Su Zhelan paused, glanced at Sheng Xuan's tense profile, then at Xiao Qiyun's knowing look, and finally just sighed without saying anything—he probably guessed that Sheng Xuan was being difficult again.

The attendant hurriedly lifted the carriage curtain. The cushions inside were still neatly laid out, and the fire in the charcoal stove had long since gone out, but it still retained some warmth. Xiao Qiyun first helped Su Zhelan into the carriage, and just as he was about to follow, Sheng Xuan pushed him aside.

"I'll go first!" The young general bent down and crawled into the carriage, his movements so clumsy he almost hit the roof. He then moved to the innermost part of the carriage, deliberately leaving space in the middle, his eyes fixed on the doorway as if declaring his territory.

Xiao Qiyun didn't argue with him, but simply stepped aside to let Su Zhelan sit first before sitting down next to the car door himself. The carriage wasn't very spacious to begin with, and with three people squeezed in, it suddenly felt cramped—Su Zhelan sat in the middle, with Sheng Xuan's tense shoulders and back on her left, and Xiao Qiyun's hand hanging down, his fingertips fiddling with the cloak's tie on his right. The air was filled with the bitter scent of mint and the grassy smell of Sheng Xuan, along with an indescribable tension.

The attendant gave a soft shout from outside, and the carriage slowly began to move.

Su Zhelan leaned against the carriage wall, watching the peach blossom forest recede outside the window. Sheng Xuan, beside him, was subtly moving his elbow toward the center, as if wanting to touch his hand but afraid of being dodged. That clumsy attempt, mixed with the sound of horses' hooves outside the carriage, made his heart flutter.