Chapter 22 Golden Stage "My identity."
When Zhao Yan returned to the inn, he bought three baskets of buns, two with meat and one with vegetarian. Yong Shaolan ate the vegetarian ones and gave the meat ones to Xuan Ji.
When Zhao Yan returned to the inn, he went upstairs. Yong Shaolan was not in the room, but not long after, there was a knock on the door: "Brother Shen, are you back?"
Zhao Yan went to open the door and stuck his head out. "I bought some vegetarian buns. Come in and eat them."
"Thank you very much,"
Zhao Yan let Yong Shaolan in and asked, "Where were you doing just now?"
Yong Shaolan took the vegetarian buns and said, "Let's pack our luggage and ask Xuanji to buy some fresh fruits."
After saying that, he glanced at the thin layer of sweat on the boy's face and asked, "How about you? Is the market lively?"
Zhao Yan didn't have time to go shopping at all. He just bought some buns and came back: "It's lively, there are so many people."
"Hmm," Yong Shaolan took a bite of the melon-filled bun and chewed it carefully. After finishing a bite, he asked again, "This is the bun from South Street. I saw it when I came here yesterday."
Yeah?
He just bought it casually.
Zhao Yan chewed his bun, thinking to himself, how could he remember the south and north? "Yes, yes, I saw it too. I went there specially."
Yong Shaolan: “Yeah.”
There is no South Street here.
The morning market is not busy either.
"Then you should eat more." Zhao Yan had no idea that his secret trip out had been exposed, and he foolishly stuffed buns into the man's mouth. "You won't be able to eat it if you leave Guanyang."
"I'm full,"
Yong Shaolan didn't say anything else and started making tea.
Zhao Yan sat opposite the man and saw him fiddling with the cups and plates in silence.
One has to admit that Yong Shaolan was born with an extremely handsome appearance. Not to mention his face, his hands that played with white porcelain had well-proportioned and slender joints, and his nails were trimmed round and full. Even the small teacup had a different kind of beauty in his hands.
But, my face smells a bit bad.
Zhao Yan felt that Yong Shaolan seemed to be in a bad mood.
"Is this tea delicious?" Zhao Yan took the initiative to talk to the man, tilting his head to watch the tea-colored soup being poured back and forth. He had seen his mother make tea before, and she said that the first brew of tea was more astringent and needed to be rinsed more often.
But Zhao Yan is rather rough, probably due to the high-pressure life in high school. He has to spend ten minutes washing his hair and taking a shower, so he has no time to spend on other things.
"It's OK." Yong Shaolan pushed the first cup of tea towards the young man and gave him a sidelong glance: "Try it."
"Oh," Zhao Yan nodded repeatedly, holding the exquisite teacup in both hands, and took a sip from it.
There is only a light fragrance in the mouth.
"Just add some honey and it'll be fine," Zhao Yan put the teacup back, "It doesn't taste like anything."
"Your taste is a bit strong." Yong Shaolan took the boy's teacup back: "But I like it."
Zhao Yan: “…”
Why does it feel like there's something else going on? Is it the strong flavor he's thinking of?
"What's so good about liking strong flavors? It's easy to get high blood pressure when you get older." Zhao Yan licked his lips. Feeling that Yong Shaolan might not understand what he said, he changed the subject to ease the awkwardness: "Want to go out for a walk later? It's quite fun here, but I wonder if there are any assassins."
"Okay," Yong Shaolan replied, then stood up to get something. When he returned, he added some to the tea and pushed it to Zhao Yan: "Try it with honey."
"Wow," Zhao Yan picked it up and drank it in one gulp. It was indeed sweet. "Brother Lan, how come you have everything?"
"And he carries honey with him."
"Hmm," Yong Shaolan took the honey back and said, "It's used to make creams, but I don't think I'll need it recently."
Zhao Yan took a big sip of tea and said, "Puff..."
…
Two days later in the afternoon, they arrived at Jinzhou, more than fifty miles outside Yujing.
In order to prevent Yong Shaolan from discovering the Jinling Army following him, Zhao Yan specifically inquired about the location of the local post station that was closed to receive officials, and prepared to move the inn where they were staying farther away.
So after entering the city, Yong Shaolan asked him about many inns, but Zhao Yan kept shaking his head: "This one is not good, let's go a little further."
Yong Shaolan: “…Yeah.”
Jinzhou is a similar city to Guanyang, but the official inn is located in a prosperous area.
If you want to go far, you have to go to a remote place.
Yong Shaolan didn't say much during the whole journey. Zhao Yan didn't know what was wrong with him, so he had to try hard to strike up a conversation with him: "However, if Brother Lan wants to stay at a hotel, we can stay there."
"I'm fine with anything." Yong Shaolan drove the carriage slowly, slightly turned his head, and glanced at the young man who was sitting obediently next to him.
He asked lightly: “Has Brother Shen ever learned poetry?”
Zhao Yanxin said, the poetry in your world is different from what I learned. "I have learned it. I can even compose an amazing one for you on the spot. Do you want to hear it?"
"Yeah." Yong Shaolan: "Brother Shen, do it."
Zhao Yan recited "Ode to the Afang Palace" and "Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng" to Yong Shaolan: "How about it, am I awesome?"
Yong Shaolan commented seriously: "Indeed, you memorized it very well."
Zhao Yan: “…………”
He sighed, "It's so boring chatting with you."
Yong Shaolan: “…”
Are you already fed up with him because he is Yong Shaolan?
Yong Shaolan leaned lazily on the carriage. They had already reached a remote road. There was no one around, so he didn't need to concentrate too much on adjusting the direction.
He lowered the blindfold from his eyes, raised his hand and took off the veil on Zhao Yan's head, and said, "There is a poem that talks about the two people in the world who are the closest and the most distant. Brother Shen, guess who it is talking about?"
"Who is it?" Zhao Yan glanced at the pair of gilded pupils and suddenly felt a little guilty. Why did he feel that Yong Shaolan was looking at him like he wanted to strip him naked with his eyes? "I don't know."
Yong Shaolan said word for word: "Husband and wife, the closest or the most distant."
Zhao Yan: “…”
Could it be that he discovered that he was secretly hiding someone?
No? How did he find out? He was obviously very careful!
"Well, that's all about other people," Zhao Yan turned his face away in shame. It was very obvious what Yong Shaolan said. Did he want him to confess on his own initiative?
No, he himself didn't reveal his identity, so why would Zhao Yan reveal his family background?
"Well, we won't." Yong Shaolan said.
…
Only when the carriage reached the edge of Jinzhou did Zhao Yan decide on a place to stay with satisfaction.
And it’s cheap, only two taels of silver a night.
The shopkeeper saw a blind man with a young boy and asked, "How many days are you staying?" without even moving an inch.
Zhao Yan made a two-sign gesture: "Trouble, two nights."
After saying that, Zhao Yan thought of Yong Shaolan's guards and said, "Add one more room, a total of two rooms, for two days."
The waiter counted on his abacus: "Eight taels of silver, two taels of deposit, a total of ten taels of silver."
Zhao Yan gave the silver, then carried their bags into the room. Yong Shaolan followed him silently until they entered the room and closed the door, then he suddenly said, "Brother Shen, are you going out?"
Zhao Yan, who was about to find an excuse to go out, said: "......?"
Sweating all over.
How can Yong Shaolan guess everything?
Zhao Yan made up an excuse: "It's getting late, I'm going to see if there's anything to buy outside."
Zhao Yan never noticed that when he lied, his eyes would subconsciously look at the ground, and the expression on his face became much more unnatural.
Yong Shaolan originally planned to wait for the young man to ask him about his identity in person.
As Zhao Yan spoke, he slowly went to get his veil. However, before he walked out of the room, Yong Shaolan, who was sitting at the table drinking tea, suddenly gave him a sidelong glance.
Yong Shaolan: "Brother Shen, I want to confess something to you."
"Ah...?" Zhao Yan twisted his hand around the veil, "What?"
Yong Shaolan sighed: "My identity."
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