Chapter 49 What I've never coveted is money, but the people I can stick with.
On the third day after escaping the pursuit, the four of them huddled in an old inn in a small town in western Hunan. The bluestone pavement was wet from the night rain, and thin streaks of water flowed down the window frames. The coal stove inside was burning brightly, casting a warm glow on Zhang Qiling's fingertips as he changed Hei Xiazi's dressing.
Black Bear lay on the bed, the knife wound on his back still oozing faint red, but he didn't look serious at all, tilting his head and rubbing against the pillow: "Dumb, your technique is getting more and more skilled. When you used to sew up my wounds, the stitches were even denser than my master's."
"Don't move." Zhang Qiling dipped a cotton swab in iodine, avoiding the tender flesh at the edge of the wound. "If you talk again, it will tear." He ran his fingertips along the old scar on Hei Xiazi's back, a scar left three years ago in the Xisha Islands when he shielded him from sea monkeys. He could still feel the shallow bump.
Hei Xiazi obediently fell silent, but deliberately rubbed against Zhang Qiling's palm while Zhang Qiling was bandaging him. Seeing that the other's ears were slightly warm, he chuckled and added, "I know the mute loves me the most."
Wu Xie sat on the bamboo chair opposite him, flipping through a local history of western Hunan that he had found at a secondhand market in town, but his ear was unconsciously turned towards that side. He always felt that there was an inexplicable tacit understanding between the two of them, just like when Zhang Qiling went to buy iodine, Hei Xiazi stared at the door for a full twenty minutes until he heard footsteps before he breathed a sigh of relief.
“I found it.” Xiao Hua pushed open the door and came in, shaking the water droplets off the umbrella and slapping a stack of documents on the table. “The Wu family ancestral hall is deep in the mountains of Longshan County, but it was destroyed by fire after liberation, and most of the family genealogy was burned.” He glanced at the two people on the bed, a knowing look flashing in his eyes. “But I found that Wu Xie’s mother’s distant relatives are still in the town, and they may know some old stories.”
Wu Xie immediately straightened up: "Where is it? I'll go right now."
"What's the rush?" Black Glasses waved his hand without turning his head. "It's still raining outside. Your injury has just healed; don't catch another illness from the rain." His words seemed casual, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zhang Qiling's bandaged hand pause. In his past life, Wu Xie had caught a high fever while investigating relatives in the rain, almost missing his journey. (Original setting)
Zhang Qiling finished bandaging the wound, then raised his hand and pressed on the back of Hei Xiazi's neck: "Lie down and rest." After saying that, he turned and walked towards the door, "I'm going to buy breakfast."
Black Bear immediately sat up, wanting to get out of bed with him: "I'll go with you. The rice noodles in town need to be doubled in spice to be flavorful."
"The wound will reopen." Zhang Qiling turned around, his tone calm yet threatening. Hei Xiazi pouted, then obediently lay back down, calling out as he watched Zhang Qiling's retreating figure, "Add another tea egg! Soft-boiled!"
Zhang Qiling didn't answer, but as he was leaving, he softly hummed in response. The sound of the rain carried the last syllable of the hum into Hei Xiazi's ears.
Only three people remained in the room. Xiao Hua leaned against the door frame, drinking tea, and glanced at Hei Xiazi: "How long have you known Brother Xiao?"
"I can't remember," Hei Xiazi laughed, resting his head on his arm. "Anyway, it's been longer than the two of you combined." He wasn't lying. From Xisha to Changbai Mountain, and then to their reunion in this life, it had been more than ten years.
Wu Xie, holding the local gazetteer, suddenly looked up and said, "Blind Man, you used to say that Wujia took advantage of your greed, but you don't seem like a greedy person at all."
Hei Xiazi's smile faded slightly as his gaze fell out the window. Zhang Qiling was standing in front of the rice noodle stall. When the owner handed him the plastic bag, he pointed to the tea egg inside, seemingly checking if it was soft-boiled. "What I'm greedy for is never money," he said softly, his voice as light as if blown away by the wind, "but people who can walk with me forever."
Wu Xie didn't understand, but Xiao Hua frowned. He remembered Xie Jiuye's secret letter saying "Hei Xiazi covets the Xie family's wealth." Now it seemed that was a misjudgment on Wu Jia's part. Hei Xiazi was following him clearly because Zhang Qiling was here.
Not long after, Zhang Qiling returned. He was carrying four oil paper bags, and as soon as he entered, he handed one of them to Hei Xiazi: "I added extra chili, and the tea eggs are soft-boiled."
Hei Xiazi immediately sat up, and as he took the bag, he deliberately touched his fingers: "I knew the mute understood me best."
Zhang Qiling didn't say anything, but handed another bag without chili to Wu Xie, and then handed Xiao Hua a cup of hot soy milk—he remembered that Xiao Hua had a bad stomach and couldn't eat anything too spicy.
The four of them ate around the coal stove, the rain tapping against the windowpanes, creating a rare sense of peace. Wu Xie, biting into a tea egg, suddenly remembered something: "Brother, have you ever been to western Hunan before?"
Zhang Qiling paused in his hand as he scooped rice noodles: "I've been here before." He didn't mention that in his previous life, it was here that Hei Xiazi was injured in the leg by the homeless people while trying to save him, and he lay in the cave for three days and three nights.
Hei Xiazi noticed that he was lost in thought and gently nudged his ankle with his foot: "What are you thinking about? The rice noodles are getting cold." He picked up a piece of braised tofu from his own bowl and put it into Zhang Qiling's bowl, "This is delicious, you should try it."
Zhang Qiling lowered his head and ate the tofu, the warmth on the tips of his ears still lingering. He actually didn't like braised food, but he would never refuse anything Hei Xiazi offered, just as Hei Xiazi, despite being afraid of bitterness, would drink every last drop of the herbal soup he prescribed.
After the meal, the rain stopped, and Zhang Qiling sat on the doorstep, wiping his sword. The black gold ancient sword gleamed in the firelight, and he wiped it with extra care, even cleaning the patterns on the scabbard with a cotton swab. Hei Xiazi moved a bamboo stool over and sat beside him, twirling an apple in his hand and occasionally feeding him a piece.
"After Wu Xie finishes asking about his relatives, shall we go to the ancestral hall?" Hei Xiazi asked, biting into an apple.
“Hmm.” Zhang Qiling nodded, his fingertips tracing the blade. “There should be fragments of meteorite jade marrow in the ancestral shrine, which can suppress the residual blood in Wu Xie’s body.” He didn’t mention that the fragments could also awaken more of his memories, especially those about Hei Xiazi—in his previous life, after he lost his memory, he relied on the fragments to remember the promise the two of them made in Xisha.
Black Bear leaned closer, his breath brushing against his earlobe: "Dumb guy, did you remember something?"
Zhang Qiling turned to look at him, meeting a pair of smiling eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he wanted to say, "I remember you used to be afraid of the dark and insisted on sharing a sleeping bag with me," but the words that came out were: "I remember you used to eat rice noodles and always splatter chili oil on your chin."
Black Bear paused for a moment, then laughed out loud: "How long ago was that? The mute still remembers." He raised his hand and rubbed his chin, as if he could still feel the traces of chili oil from back then.
Sunlight filtered through the bamboo shoots, falling on the overlapping shadows of the two men. Zhang Qiling looked at the fine lines at the corners of Hei Xiazi's eyes when he smiled, and suddenly felt that this kind of daily life was wonderful—no pursuit, no conspiracies, only the fire in the hearth, the sound of rain, and the warmth of the person beside him.
The silence was broken by Wu Xie's voice: "I've asked around, and our relatives live in the back mountain. We'll go there this afternoon."
Zhang Qiling withdrew his gaze, sheathed the Black Gold Ancient Sword, and helped Hei Xiazi up as he stood. Hei Xiazi used the support to stand up, deliberately leaning closer to him, and whispered in his ear, "After this is over, let's find a secluded spot to sunbathe."
Zhang Qiling paused for a moment and gave a soft "hmm".
The sun was shining brightly, and the bamboo shadows swayed gently. No one noticed a black sedan parked on the street corner. Behind the car window, a pair of eyes were fixed on the two people at the entrance of the hotel. A fingertip typed a line on the phone screen: "Zhang Qiling and Hei Xiazi are traveling together. Wu Xie's condition is stable. He can be led to the ancestral hall as planned."
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