“Just a few more days?”
After Zheng Yang left, Su Cen stopped watching the clouds and practicing calligraphy. Instead, he began delving into philosophical introspection, trying to understand what exactly “just a few more days” meant.
He felt there was something significant hidden in Zheng Yang’s words—something crucial that he had overlooked, but no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t grasp it.
What event could possibly happen “within just a few days”?
As the full moon approached, the night was clear and bright, the moonlight cold as frost upon the ground.
Su Cen had just lain down for the night when a sudden explosion echoed from the northwest. Without thinking further, he threw on his robe and rushed out of his room, only to find Qu Ling’er already standing in the courtyard.
“What’s going on?” Su Cen asked urgently.
Qu Ling’er leapt onto the roof, scanning the horizon. After a moment, he turned back and said, “It looks like it’s coming from Xingqing Palace.”
Without hesitation, Su Cen turned and ran toward the courtyard gate.
As soon as he opened the gate, the two guards blocked his path from both sides.
“Lord Su, please stay here,” one of them said.
“Didn’t you hear that sound just now?” Su Cen asked anxiously. “Something might have happened at Xingqing Palace! I just want to take a quick look. I won’t run away!”
The guards replied calmly, “The prince has made his arrangements. Please return inside.”
Su Cen pleaded, “Can’t you at least escort me there? I just need to make sure everything is all right.”
The guards stood firm and silently closed the gate, locking it.
“Don’t worry, Brother Su.” Qu Ling’er patted Su Cen’s shoulder. “I’ll go check. Nothing will happen.”
With no other options, Su Cen could only nod in agreement.
Sleep was out of the question. Draping himself in a robe, Su Cen paced the courtyard. Xingqing Palace was just one block over from Changle Ward. He could still feel the beams of his house tremble from the blast—what kind of explosion could create such force?
Is he all right?
The night dew soaked his sleeves, but he didn’t notice. Su Cen stood until his legs went numb, then moved to the veranda to sit. He waited from the zenith of the moon until it descended in the west, watching the tree shadows shift from graceful silhouettes to eerie, ghostly figures. With each passing watch of the night, the cold in his heart deepened.
It wasn’t until the latter half of the night that Qu Ling’er returned. The sound of the gate opening jolted Su Cen to his feet.
Qu Ling’er entered, pausing in surprise when he saw Su Cen still awake.
“Brother Su, you’re not asleep yet?”
“What happened to you?” Su Cen frowned, scanning him from head to toe. Several parts of his clothes were torn, revealing faint traces of dark red blood.
“I’m fine—it’s not mine…” Qu Ling’er started to explain but noticed Su Cen staring blankly behind him. He turned to look as well.
Qi Lin emerged from the thick night mist, stopping just inside the gate. With a brief wave of his hand, the two guards outside the gate silently withdrew with their swords.
Qi Lin cast a meaningful glance at Qu Ling’er before turning to Su Cen.
“The prince wants to see you,” he said quietly.
Returning to Xingqing Palace, Su Cen felt as if everything had changed, as if the world had moved on without him.
The night air was thick with the scent of blood, and guards and servants were repeatedly dousing the bloodstains at the entrance with buckets of water.
Fresh blood mixed with the water, forming pale pink froth that seeped into the cracks between the bricks, taking with it secrets that would never be revealed.
The scene inside was no better. The once-elegant pavilions and terraces were now marred by deep gashes from blades. Broken branches and leaves were strewn across the ground, and beside the artificial hill he once considered climbing, a large crater had been blasted into the earth.
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Su Cen asked, “What exactly happened tonight?”
Qi Lin answered, “That black-robed man led an attack. They came to assassinate master.”
Su Cen’s heart skipped a beat. “And the prince? Is he all right?”
“Master is fine,” Qi Lin replied, casting a brief glance at Su Cen. “In fact, he’s been waiting for them for quite some time.”
Qi Lin continued, “Qu Ling’er must’ve told you—they were from the Secret Door.”
Su Cen nodded.
“The Secret Door views the prince as their greatest threat and wouldn’t miss this rare opportunity to strike.”
It suddenly clicked for Su Cen. “So, you deliberately lured them here?”
Qi Lin nodded. “Master’s injury is real, but he used it to his advantage. Since that day at the outskirts, the palace has been under strict lockdown. The walls of Xingqing Palace are impenetrable, and the Secret Door can’t infiltrate. They had to gather information from the outside. We kept you in the dark to avoid giving them any clues through you.”
Su Cen cursed these people a thousand times over in his heart. Why did they have to drag him into this? Couldn’t they have just given him a heads-up? If they wanted him to act oblivious or utterly distraught, he could’ve played the part! But instead, they let him stew in his anxiety until he was emotionally drained.
Despite his internal tirade, what he finally said aloud was, “Is his injury serious?”
Qi Lin replied, “See for yourself.”
The moment Su Cen entered the bedchamber, he was hit by the mixed scent of medicine and faint sandalwood incense. The bitterness lingered in the air.
His heart raced as he took a few quick steps forward, and only when he saw the person lying inside did he feel some semblance of relief.
There lay Li Shi, bare-chested on the bed, with a bandage running diagonally from his left armpit to his right shoulder. Faint traces of dried blood were still visible beneath the layers of gauze.
He was clearly injured—badly.
Yet, despite his condition, he seemed in good spirits. His deep eyes sparkled with amusement as Su Cen approached. Stretching out his arms, he said with a grin, “Come here.”
Su Cen secretly cursed him, “The disaster will last for a thousand years”, and then cursed himself, “You are useless”, and then he took off his shoes and got on the bed, sending himself into the arms of disaster.
The servants, sensing the mood, quietly excused themselves.
Qi Lin added two more pieces of incense to the burner, filling the air with a deeper fragrance.
From the bed came Li Shi’s low, commanding voice: “Put out the lights.”
Qi Lin hesitated, as if doubting what he had just heard. He glanced back to confirm. “Master?”
Li Shi gazed at the person in his arms and responded nonchalantly, “There’s no need to light incense when Zixu is around from now on.”
Qi Lin paused briefly, then nodded and left.
Su Cen rested his head on Li Shi’s arm, nestled against his chest. With each breath, the faint scent of sandalwood filled his senses, bringing a sense of peace he had never experienced before.
He had never really thought about the weight this man carried in his heart—hadn’t dared to think about it. But now, as he leaned into Li Shi’s embrace, thoughts sprouted uncontrollably, like bamboo shoots after rain.
Li Shi was like the Chang’an city in Su Cen’s heart. After wandering through half his life, he had finally found a glimpse of something constant and had foolishly hoped it would last forever. If one day this city were to crumble, he would have nowhere left to settle, drifting endlessly without a place to call home.
Li Shi noticed Su Cen lying quietly on his chest and tilted the other’s chin up with a slight gesture. “Feeling wronged?”
Su Cen thought for a moment, then nodded seriously. “Yes, very wronged.”
He began to speak, recounting everything he had seen and heard over the past few days—from conflicts with officials at court to how the neighbor, Lord Zhang’s dog, barked incessantly at night. His thoughts wandered from the trivial to the serious—whatever came to mind, he voiced it aloud.
Every now and then, Su Cen would glance up at Li Shi, searching the depths of his gaze before lowering his head to continue.
He never knew he had so much to say. Once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping it.
Li Shi gently kneaded the back of Su Cen’s neck, listening patiently until the end. Then, with a soft laugh, he said, “Zixu, don’t be afraid.”
Something shifted in Su Cen’s heart—so it was fear all along.
He was afraid that if he didn’t say everything now, no one would ever listen again. Afraid that when he woke up, it would all be nothing more than a fleeting dream. Afraid that some emotions would remain forever unspoken, with no place to go.
Su Cen smiled softly at Li Shi. “I understand now. I’m not afraid anymore.”
He propped himself up on his arms and leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against Li Shi’s. At first, it was just a gentle touch, but soon, as if unsatisfied, the kisses deepened—again and again. Their tongues entwined, teeth grazing, as though Su Cen wanted to pour his entire being into Li Shi.
Li Shi pinched Su Cen’s sharp chin with a teasing smile. “You want this, don’t you?”
Su Cen frowned, glancing at the white bandages wrapped around Li Shi’s torso. “Can you handle it?”
Li Shi laughed and patted Su Cen’s back. “You take the lead.”
Obediently, Su Cen rose, shedding his layers of clothing with care. He straddled Li Shi, slowly taking him in—bit by bit—until their bodies fit perfectly, like a tenon locking into a mortise. They moved together, adjusting and grinding against each other until the rhythm became fluid and smooth.
Li Shi watched him closely, observing as Su Cen shifted from awkwardness to control, until he fully opened himself, completely unguarded.
As Su Cen approached his peak, Li Shi suddenly sat up. He wrapped one arm tightly around Su Cen’s waist and used his other hand to block his release.
It felt like being yanked from the crest of a wave and plunged into deep waters, leaving Su Cen gasping for breath. He struggled instinctively, but Li Shi held him firmly, whispering in a low, commanding voice by his ear, “Wait a little longer.”
Then, with a sudden burst of strength, Li Shi overwhelmed him before Su Cen could even let out a startled cry. The relentless onslaught left him gasping for breath, barely able to catch a moment of air.
Su Cen was already at his limit, his insides melting into a helpless puddle. There was no way he could withstand such intensity. His arms had gone weak, his legs trembled uncontrollably, and all he could do was endure, utterly powerless to resist.
So much for “you take the lead”—this man had been conserving his strength all along! Su Cen gritted his teeth, but he couldn’t stop the soft, slippery moans from escaping his lips. Encircled in Li Shi’s arms, every sound he made seemed to echo clearly in the quiet room.
It wasn’t until the first rays of sunlight slipped into the room that Li Shi finally relented, releasing his hold. As his grip loosened, the person in his arms arched his back sharply, and after a long moment, collapsed with a sob, trembling as he went limp against Li Shi’s chestl
“All done,” Li Shi murmured, gently smoothing Su Cen’s sweat-dampened back. He bent down to place a soft kiss on his temple. “Zixu, you did so well.”