Cry of the Midnight Jackdaw

Chapter Seventy-one,
Birthday

“The things that your Highness has instructed of me, I have already brought.” Song Ying lowered his head, and obediently stood at the right side of the table. The attendant on the side quietly hung their eyes down, without stopping the hand grinding the ink. He Xuan lifted up the wolf-hair brush, dipped it with ink, his words were just like himself, opening big and closing big, seeming to encompass the force of a thunderstorm crashing down in the curves, making people uncontrollably sweat for that excellent rice paper from Hui Province.

“En.” He Xuan slightly paused writing, and the thick ink stained a corner of the paper, like dark skies about to rain spreading with a span of dark clouds. Song Ying stood there without moving, he opened his mouth like he wanted to speak, hesitated for a moment, but still spoke, “Your Highness, Sir Xiao seemed to have some hidden troubles, does your Highness want me to help look into it?”

He Xuan continued writing like he did not hear it, so Song Ying did not dare to speak again, and only agitatedly watched him finish writing those words. He Xuan placed the brush down, then seemed to have noticed there was a person in front of him, and lifted his eyelids and glanced at him, with his expression indeterminable from happy or angry, “No need, step down.”

“Yes.” Song Ying answered and nodded his head. Just as he was going to retreat out the door, He Xuan suddenly opened his mouth to stop him, “Wait.”

“Is there something, your Highness?” Song Ying pressed down the faint sliver of joy in his heart, and lifted his head up.

He Xuan only hung his head and flipped the book, he seemed like he was using a regular tone like asking him to pour a cup of water to indifferently send Song Ying to execution, “Go to the accounting room in a bit to get money, no need to come here anymore.”

Song Ying froze, perhaps he worried about this day for far too long everyday, to the point that when this day finally came, he actually felt a bit of relief- those unrealistic delusions and the person far off to the skies, in the end, had no need to be fantasized over.

He took in a deep breath, and forced himself to use a type of calm tone to respond, “Thank you, your Highness.”

He Xuan did not even raise his head again to look at him.

When Song Ying walked past the door to the residence, he distantly saw Xiao Zuo lean on the pillar of a corridor, lowering his head and saying something with the maid to the side. The slightly intoxicating sunlight painted over his side figure as it willed, and when he slightly curved his eyes and smiled, his entire being would be wrapped in this kind of calm, warm glow, like when they first met.

Song Ying moved his eyes away, and continued walking forward. When he was about to leave, in the end, he could not hold it in, and unbearably admired Xiao Zuo in this kind of well-lit afternoon.

Underneath the corridor, Zi Wan was speaking with Xiao Zuo about some interesting things in Shang An’jing, and said lately, He Yang has had misfortune wrap around him- not long ago, he had a big fight with Lord Qi An’s son at Gui Yun Terrace due to a dancer, shocking his Majesty, and got confined at home.

These two days when he was strolling in his own home’s backyard, he somehow fell and broke his leg over flat land, and now broke his foot and laid in bed without any way to get down. After the Emperor heard of it, he actually did not send an imperial doctor to take a look, and instead directly let him rest at home, to choose another person for Nan Liang’s quelling. Xiao Zuo imagined He Yang having wooden planks holding his leg, being hung on the bed with a grieving look, and smiled with extreme revel in his misery.

“Speaking about it now, tomorrow will be Duke’s birthday.” Zi Wan took out a pouch from the back, the surface was meticulously embroidered with lotuses, she took it in her hands and slightly hesitantly paused, then quietly said, “Zi Wan’s things are all given by Duke, so there is nothing to give to Duke. This is a pouch Zi Wan embroidered, the inside holds mind-easing herbs, if Duke does not dislike it……”

“How could I.” Xiao Zuo reached out to take it, he preciously touched the fine stitchings on the pouch, and smiled, “It looks really great, I like it a lot.”

Zi Wan then seemed like she sighed a breath of relief, she slightly awkwardly reddened her face, and stared at the tips of her toes, “Aye, Duke is making fun of this servant. De Qing yesterday told this servant he also has something to give to Duke, when would Duke like to go look?”

“I will go in a moment.”

In the evening, Xiao Zuo sat by the bed, and flipped through the pouch and the book De Qing gifted today. De Qing said that that year, Father randomly recorded down on it when reading books, and for these many years, De Qing had always brought it with him, so leaving it to him now, would be also considered a kind of memorial. The cover of that book was already a bit yellowed, the ink inside perhaps got stained in water on the journey’s tremors after the country fell, and had a spot dampened, so much of it could not be read clearly. Xiao Zuo carried some unspeakable complicated yearning and sentimental attachement, and lowered his head and lightly stroked the characters on the surface over and over again, like he was speaking with Father through the two realms.

“What are you reading so seriously?” He Xuan just finished bathing, his ink-coloured long hair was still a bit wet, against the white waxy vapour, it seemed like he was covered in fog, making his cold and stiff features look much gentler. He only loosely draped on a sleeping robe, the waist half-hung with a decorative waistband, the chest was half open, revealing a large area of the firm chest. He Xuan used one hand to hold a towel his the head, and nonchalantly sat beside Xiao Zuo, when he spoke, it carried a lax nasal tone, and seemed to have a strange enticing intent with a listen.

Xiao Zuo closed the book in a bit of a panic, and did not answer his question, “The incense used today is very fragrant.”

“Is it?” He Xuan did not press on the question, he lowered his head along Xiao Zuo’s words and smelled the sleeping robe, it certainly was different from the usual, as though orange osmanthus and honey was added in, mixed in with the original bitter spikenard and wild celery, like he had fallen into the osmanthus forest in the Moon Palace. The solitary and high cold moon and the sweet osmanthus flowers peculiarly mixed together, bringing together some secretive seduction.

He Xuan raised his eyebrows, and got close to Xiao Zuo’s ear, then quietly asked him, “Does it smell good?”

Xiao Zuo used the still slightly cold back of his hands to press on the burning cheeks, then moved his eyes away and very slightly nodded his head, once He Xuan got his secret encouragement, he curled his lips and touched his earlobes.

Xiao Zuo earlobes were overly sensitive, He Xuan only needed to slightly touch it, and would make his entire body shake. He Xuan watched as Xiao Zuo’s straight back instantly softened like waiting for a rabbit by a tree, the corners of his eyes seeped with a smear of bright red, while his eyes hazed with a layer of damp vapour. He assertively reached his arms out and wrapped them over He Xuan’s neck, and clumsily and disorderly gnawed by He Xuan’s lips.

He Xuan tutted in slight surprise, and quickly flipped things around, then hooked Xiao Zuo’s tongue very carefully probing in and sucked on it. Both his hands wrapped around Xiao Zuo’s back, and brought him into his own embrace, savouring Xiao Zuo’s lips by meticulously sucking on them while undoing the buttons of Xiao Zuo’s outer robe.

Tonight, Xiao Zuo was being especially cooperative, and pretty much indulged in He Xuan’s lust, making He Xuan also briefly toss him around for two hours without awareness of strength, up until Xiao Zuo truly was so tired he couldn’t open his eyes, he then stopped unwillingly, and reached out and held him in his arms, intermittently kissing the top of his hair.

Xiao Zuo pretty much slept as soon as he closed his eyes, but He Xuan did not have much of any drowsiness. He massaged the bruise he accidentally pressed on Xiao Zuo’s waist, and spoke by his ears with a breathy tone.

“Happy Birthday, my…… Li Nu.”