Chapter 139 Treating You Like a Grain Shelf
“There’s no one here.” Pei Zhi hugged her tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Let me hug you for a while. I’ve been on guard duty at the military camp for half a day and I’m tired.”
Sunlight filtered through the treetops, illuminating their clasped hands. After a while, Pei Zhi finally released her, picked up the washed handkerchief, wrung it out, and hung it on a nearby tree. The damp handkerchief swayed in the breeze, the ink stains completely removed, restoring its moon-white color.
"The handkerchief needs to be dried before you put it away, otherwise it will spoil." Pei Zhi took out an oil paper package from the food box. "I knew you would be hungry after washing the handkerchief, so I brought you some snacks."
Ye Wanning took the red bean paste cake and took a bite. The sweet aroma mixed with the scent of grass by the stream was especially delicious. She then handed another piece to Pei Zhi. When she saw that he had some sugar powder on the corner of his mouth when he took a bite, she couldn't help but reach out and wipe it off for him: "You're just like a child. You even get sugar powder on your mouth when you eat snacks."
Pei Zhi took her hand, touched it lightly to his lips, and felt the warmth on his fingertips: "That was given to me by Madam, and I'm happy to have it on my lips."
Ye Wanning's face flushed red instantly. She quickly withdrew her hand and pretended to look at the handkerchief: "The handkerchief is almost dry. Let's go back."
The setting sun bathed the pigeon coop in the general's mansion in a warm yellow light. The pigeons inside were already impatient, cooing and peeking out of the cage door, staring at the grain bowl beside Ye Wanning.
"Don't rush, everyone gets a share." Ye Wanning smiled as she opened the cage door. Just as she was about to scatter the grain, the pigeons fluttered their wings and swarmed around her, some landing directly on her arm. The grain spilled all over her, even landing a few grains in her hair.
"Oh dear!" Ye Wanning hurriedly reached out to brush it off, but there were too many pigeons, and the more she brushed, the more grains stuck to her. The white grains clung to her light pink dress, standing out conspicuously.
She hurriedly tidied up when she heard Pei Zhi's familiar laughter behind her: "These pigeons are being naughty again."
Pei Zhi returned from the military camp, carrying a cloak. Seeing her like this, he quickly walked over, took out a clean handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped her down: "Next time I'll feed them, you just watch from the side. Don't go crazy with them, they'll treat you like a grain rack."
Ye Wanning felt a little embarrassed but didn't stop him, letting him wipe her clean. "I thought they would be more well-behaved, but they're even crazier than last time."
Pei Zhi took the bowl of grain from her hand and gently sprinkled it into the cage. He sprinkled it slowly, and the pigeons pecked at his hand, no longer flying towards him.
Ye Wanning looked at him in confusion: "Why are they so well-behaved when you feed them?"
As Pei Zhi spoke, he reached into the cage and grabbed a white dove. The dove was very docile; after he took it out, it lay in his hand, its eyes darting around as it looked at Ye Wanning.
“Look, this one is the best-behaved, just like you.” Pei Zhi handed the pigeon to her, gently stroking its feathers with his fingertips.
Ye Wanning hesitated for a moment, then reached out and gently stroked the pigeon's feathers—they were so soft. The pigeon suddenly nuzzled her palm; it was warm. Ye Wanning chuckled.
Pei Zhi smiled, his eyes full of tenderness: "Your smile is cuter than a dove's."
After feeding the pigeons, Pei Zhi draped the cloak over Ye Wanning and helped her tie the straps: "It's getting dark, and the wind is chilly. Don't catch a cold." His fingers touched her neck, which was slightly warm, making her feel warm inside.
The two sat on a stone bench, watching the pigeons pecking at their food in their cage. The setting sun painted the sky orange-red, and the pigeons' feathers shimmered with a warm light. Ye Wanning leaned on Pei Zhi's shoulder and whispered, "If only every day could be like this."
“Yes, we will.” Pei Zhi held her hand, his fingertips stroking her palm. “Every evening from now on, we will come to feed the pigeons, watch them grow up and have baby pigeons, and when the baby pigeons grow up, we will teach them to deliver messages.”
It was late at night, and the study was quiet except for the crackling of the candlelight and the soft rustling of turning pages. Ye Wanning was lying on the table reading medical books, a pen in her hand, occasionally jotting something down on a piece of paper—she had recently been organizing the medical records left by her mother, copying down useful prescriptions so she could refer to them when she encountered similar symptoms in the future.
The teacup on the table had long since gone cold, but she hadn't noticed until her fingers touched it. Just as she was about to pick it up and pour it out, Pei Zhi's warm hand pressed down on hers: "Don't drink cold tea, it's bad for your stomach."
Ye Wanning looked up and saw Pei Zhi standing beside her, having put down his military treatise at some point, his eyes filled with concern. "I was so engrossed in reading that I didn't notice," she said, a little embarrassed, as she moved her teacup closer to herself.
Pei Zhi didn't say anything, picked up the teacup and walked outside. Ye Wanning thought he was going to throw it away, but before long, he returned with a steaming cup of tea and handed it to her—it was her usual white porcelain cup, filled with ginger and jujube tea, still steaming.
"It's freshly boiled, be careful it's hot." Pei Zhi's fingers touched her fingertips, noticing that her hands were cold, so he gently wrapped them around hers. "Don't forget to drink hot tea while reading. Your hands are so cold, is it because the charcoal fire isn't hot enough?"
His fingertips brushed against her earlobe unintentionally. It was a sensitive spot, and when he touched it like that, Ye Wanning's body stiffened, and the tip of her ear turned red as if it had been burned.
"Your hair is all down, blocking your view of the book." Pei Zhi's voice was soft, with a hint of amusement, as if he hadn't noticed her nervousness. But Ye Wanning could feel his fingertips lingering behind her ear for a moment before slowly withdrawing.
She quickly lowered her head, pretending to look at the medical book, but she couldn't concentrate on the words. Her mind was filled with the warmth of his fingertips and the ticklish feeling of his breath brushing against her skin. It wasn't until Pei Zhi's voice rang out again that she snapped back to reality: "What's this page about? I've noticed you haven't turned the page in ages."
Ye Wanning pointed to the medical record in the book, her voice slightly hoarse: "It's a prescription for treating colds. Boil perilla and ginger in water, then add two red dates. It's suitable for the elderly and children. I used this prescription when Xiaodouzi had a cold last time, and he recovered quickly after drinking it."
Pei Zhi tilted his head and leaned closer, his gaze fixed on the medical book, his shoulder gently touching hers. The scent of ink lingered in her nostrils, making her heart beat even faster.
"This recipe is good." He nodded, tapping the pages of the book with his finger. "Next time I catch a cold in the barracks, will you cook me a bowl too?"
"Okay," Ye Wanning quickly agreed, afraid that she would lose focus again. But as soon as she finished speaking, she remembered that he wouldn't easily catch a cold in the military camp; he was clearly teasing her on purpose. She looked up and glared at him, only to meet his gentle gaze—the candlelight looked like two small flames in his eyes, encompassing her shadow as well.
The two stared at each other, the study so quiet they could hear each other breathing. Ye Wanning gave in first, quickly averting her gaze, picking up her ginger and jujube tea and taking another sip, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Pei Zhi didn't let her off the hook, reaching out to gently touch her cheek: "Why is your face so red? Is the charcoal fire too strong?"
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