FMT 58

Chapter 58 Invitation to Drink

Liandan stood by the window, quietly listening.

After a while, the flute stopped. Someone walked under the window and asked in a low voice, “Do you want to have a drink together?”

Liandan bit his lip and said, “Alright.”

The voice outside said, “It’s cold out here, put on a cloak.”

Liandan answered, went to take the cloak from the rack, put it on, and went out.

In the courtyard, the young man in white stood in the pavilion under the moon. A bamboo flute rested on the stone table, beside it a pot of wine and a pair of cups.

He was looking down, pouring wine into the cups.

When his eyelids lowered, the shape of his eyes was beautiful, but carried a coldness that kept people at a distance. His fingers holding the cup were long and pale. A light breeze passed, stirring the hem of his white robe and the long hair tied behind his head.

When Liandan walked over, he set down the cup in his hand, lifted his eyes, and when he saw who it was, his expression softened.

Liandan always knew Chen Shuangning was very handsome. After so long, he should have been used to it.

But at certain moments, he found himself staring in a daze at that beautiful face.

When the wine pot touched the table with a light “tak” sound, Liandan came back to his senses, realizing he had stared too long. He quickly shifted his gaze down to the ground and stepped into the pavilion.

On the stone bench, soft cushions were laid out. Chen Shuangning and Liandan sat opposite each other at the stone table.

Liandan’s heart raced without reason. He searched his mind in a hurry for something to say.

“Tonight… the moon looks nice.” Liandan stammered.

“Mm.” Shuangning glanced outside the pavilion. “It should be clear for the next few days.”

Liandan said, “C-clear skies are good.” Even he bit his lip afterward, wondering what nonsense he was speaking.

Shuangning looked at him and smiled faintly, then picked up his cup. Liandan quickly lifted his own. The two touched cups lightly and each drank.

Shuangning said, “There have been many matters lately. It’s been a long time since we had a proper talk.”

The wine was not strong. It carried the sweet fragrance of osmanthus. But it still burned warm in the stomach.

Whether it was the beauty of the moonlight or the wine, Liandan suddenly felt heat rising through him.

Looking at the young man across from him, his heart grew restless. Those eyes were so beautiful that he hardly dared look straight into them.

Liandan turned his face away. “Yes.”

After those two words, silence fell between them.

Liandan felt frustration and sadness. At such a time, his tongue was useless. He clearly had so much he wanted to say, but he could not break through that thin layer of ice.

Then, the young man across from him slowly stood up. He picked up the flute on the table and walked to the edge of the pavilion. He gazed for a while at the tree in the courtyard covered with small white blossoms.

Afterward, Shuangning turned back to Liandan and said, “I’ve learned a new tune recently. Do you want to hear it?”

Liandan nodded right away.

Shuangning looked at him, raised the flute to his lips, and the sound began to flow.

This tune was unlike the ones Liandan had heard before. It did not carry sorrow, but instead joy, with an unspoken tenderness woven within.

The piece was short. In less than half a cup of tea, it ended.

Liandan had little knowledge of music. He had only seen a father and daughter singing for a living in a tavern on his way to the main house, and troupes performing during village festivals.

But to him, this tune was beautiful. It stirred something deep in his chest he could not name.

Shuangning set the flute down, leaned his shoulder lightly against a wooden pillar of the pavilion, and asked, “Do you like it?”

Liandan nodded. “It was very good. I like it.”

Shuangning’s lips curved into a smile. Since the poison in his body had been cleared, he had gradually changed.

He smiled more. His eyes were still cold most of the time, but when facing those close to him, they softened instantly.

His nature had always been gentle. Only under the long torment of poison had he become irritable and hard to control. Yet even then, he had never harmed those close to him.

Now that the poison in his body was cleared, the torment that had haunted him day and night was gone, and the burden on his shoulders was lifted. The whole man had become much lighter and gentler.

Chen Shuangning looked at Liandan and said softly, “This piece is called ‘Phoenix Seeks Phoenix.’”

Liandan’s face flushed, his heart pounding wildly, almost about to jump out of his chest.

Chen Shuangning’s gaze on him carried something that made breathing tight and his head dizzy.

Faced with that look, Liandan did not even try to look away, but stared straight back into his eyes.

Footsteps sounded. Chen Shuangning walked slowly to him, lowered his head, and filled the two cups on the table.

Liandan followed his lead, picked up his own cup, and they clinked again, each draining their own cup.

Chen Shuangning looked at his lips wet with wine and said, “The wind has risen, let’s go back inside.”

Liandan answered with an “mm,” set down his cup, and the two of them left the pavilion one after the other, passed the flowering tree, stepped onto the front steps, and entered the house.

Shuangning walked him to his bedroom door, stopped there, and watched him go in.

Once inside, Liandan turned back. The two of them looked at each other across the threshold, one inside and one outside.

After a while, Shuangning’s throat moved. He said, “It’s late, get some rest.”

Liandan raised his eyes to him, nodded. “You rest early too.”

The door closed slowly, shutting the young man out.

Liandan’s face was still hot. He returned to the bed, sat at the edge, one hand pressed to his chest, staring blankly.

After some time, he rose, went to the table, poured himself a cup of tea, and drank it down to calm the wine in his stomach.

When he finished, he went to the washstand, dipped a cloth in water, wrung it out, and wiped his flushed face.

When all was done, he stood in the middle of the room for a long while without moving, looking toward the door, lost in thought.

After standing there for some time, he suddenly bit his lip, stepped quickly toward the door, and pulled it open in one motion. He lifted his foot but before stepping out, he saw the tall figure standing outside.

The young man had not left. After all this time, he was still there.

Liandan gasped, startled and flustered, staring at him. “You… I…”

For a long time, he could not form a complete sentence. At that moment, the young man moved.

Chen Shuangning stepped over the threshold in a stride, stood before him, lowered his head close, and looked at him.

“I was hesitating, wondering what I should say for you to let me in,” the young man murmured with a sigh.

Tears welled in Liandan’s eyes, not from sorrow, but from being overwhelmed and shy to the extreme.

His lips moved, but still no words came out.

Shuangning bent down, brushed his lips lightly against his, and Liandan’s face turned crimson, his eyes blinking rapidly.

The young man stared at his lips. “If you don’t want to speak for now, then don’t.”

With that, he turned and shut the door.

As soon as he turned back, someone had already thrown himself into his arms. The small, slender ge’er wrapped his arms tightly around his waist, stood on tiptoe to reach his lips.

They were too far apart in height. Even on tiptoe, Liandan could not quite reach.

So the taller one bent down, lowered his head, and let him press his lips up. They had not been this close in so long that when lips and tongues tangled, Liandan’s body trembled uncontrollably.

They kissed for a long time, until both their lips went numb, before parting slightly.

Shuangning kept close, brushing his lips against his, his hand rubbing repeatedly over his back. His voice was hoarse, he asked, “Can I stay tonight?”

Liandan leaned against his chest, obediently hummed an answer. Shuangning bent down, one hand supporting him, lifted him entirely into his arms, and walked to the bed.

With one sweep of his arm, the bed curtains fell, covering the shadows inside.

After some time, the small slender ge’er held his face in both hands, letting out a soft sound.

A hoarse voice asked low in his ear, “Does it hurt?”

Liandan shook his head. But the other still held back, waiting for his reply. So he looped his arms around his neck, buried his face in the crook of his neck, and told the truth. “It doesn’t hurt, just… a little uncomfortable.”

The young man turned his head, kissed his temple, and said, “Then I’ll go slower.”