Chapter 12 – I Don’t Want Anything, Just Want You
“179, Brother Zhu seems really upset,” Xia Yi finally noticed something was wrong with Gu Wenzhu. “Can you scan him and tell me what he’s doing?”
“He’s sitting by the river, staring at a rock,” the system answered.
Xia Yi waited anxiously at home, a tangled mess of emotions in his heart.
Over an hour later, footsteps sounded outside the courtyard gate. Xia Yi quickly went to the porch to wait. The gate opened, and Gu Wenzhu walked in, his clothes damp with dew. He looked up and saw Xia Yi, startled for a moment, then quickly averted his gaze and walked straight to his room without acknowledging him.
Xia Yi reached out to stop him. “Brother Zhu, why are you upset? We’re both men, can’t we just talk it out?”
“We’re both men?” Gu Wenzhu suddenly laughed bitterly. “So, in your eyes, we’re just two men. You never considered marriage, did you? I was always just…” He abruptly stopped, biting his lip in frustration. Pushing Xia Yi’s hand away, he went into his room and shut the door behind him.
Xia Yi stood staring at the closed door, his emotions swirling. Could it be that Brother Zhu had feelings for him? Probably. Yes, it must be that.
He thought he should feel scared, or at least repelled and disgusted. After all, even though this world was different, he had been a straight man for over twenty years… But aside from confusion, he didn’t feel any fear. If anything, there was a faint sweetness bubbling up inside him.
What’s going on???!!!
Xia Yi felt like his mind was being sifted through a fine sieve. The whole night, he tossed and turned, sometimes sighing, sometimes laughing foolishly, rolling around on the bed, clutching his blanket.
“Host, you’re making me feel uneasy,” 179 said.
“Alright, alright, time to sleep.”
The next day, Xia Yi got up with dark circles under his eyes. He peeked into the kitchen but didn’t find Gu Wenzhu. Normally, at this time, he’d be busy there.
He searched around, but Gu Wenzhu was nowhere in the courtyard either. The farming tools were there, and the cows were still in the barn.
“179, where did Brother Zhu go?” Xia Yi asked the system.
“No idea. He left before dawn and went out of the village.”
Could he have gone to the county? But normally, he’d at least tell me if he was going to the county.
All day, Xia Yi was distracted. Even checking on his beloved radishes couldn’t calm him down. He stood idly with a hoe in the field or sat on the ridge, absentmindedly picking at the hoe handle.
I think something’s wrong with me.
Every now and then, he would rush back home to check if Gu Wenzhu had returned, but by nightfall, he was still the only one in the courtyard.
Xia Yi was starting to panic.
Could something have happened again, like last time when he was taken away by the authorities? Xia Yi suddenly thought of this and immediately felt tense. “No, I have to go look for him.”
Just as he was about to head out, Brother Wang walked by the courtyard with a hoe on his shoulder.
“Xia Yi, where are you going? It’s already dark.”
“I’m going to look for Brother Zhu. I haven’t seen him all day.”
“Gu Wenzhu went up the mountain with Da Zhu and the others to look for ‘heat suppression grass.’ Didn’t you know?” Brother Wang asked, surprised.
“Oh, right… I forgot.”
“Looking for that grass, huh? It’s only found on Chongming Mountain, and it grows on cliffs. It’s not easy to collect.” Brother Wang shook his head and walked away.
Xia Yi stood still for a moment, then closed the courtyard gate and went back inside.
That night, Xia Yi kept his ears perked up, listening for any sounds outside. Whenever he heard footsteps near the courtyard, he would sit up, carefully catching every movement, but the footsteps would always fade away.
“I shouldn’t have asked for that grass. It’s too dangerous,” Xia Yi muttered, sitting on the bed, full of regret and worry.
“I don’t want the grass anymore. I just want Brother Zhu to come back safe.”
By dawn, the courtyard gate had not been opened, and Gu Wenzhu still hadn’t returned.
Xia Yi listlessly cooked for himself, then sat in the courtyard waiting for him. Without realizing it, he fell asleep. When he woke up, the gate was still closed, and he was alone at home.
As the sun set, Xia Yi stood at the village entrance, staring into the distance. He stood there until nightfall, the dew creeping up his pant legs, but Gu Wenzhu never appeared.
Brother Zhu, please come back. I don’t want that grass anymore.
Xia Yi was filled with regret.
…
Late into the night, Gu Wenzhu and the others were on their way back. The three of them had managed to collect four stalks of grass. Gu Wenzhu took one, and the remaining three were left for the other two to sell and split the money. Da Zhu had hurt his leg and was limping, while Gu Wenzhu wasn’t in great shape either, with scratches all over his back.
Still, despite the hardship, it was worth it to get the grass for Xia Yi.
As the three chatted and made their way to the village entrance, they saw the whole place was quiet, everyone fast asleep. Only the occasional dog bark could be heard.
Suddenly, a figure dashed out from behind a large rock, running straight toward them. They stopped, and as the person got closer, Gu Wenzhu saw, by the light of the torch, that it was Xia Yi.
Xia Yi stopped in front of them, staring at Gu Wenzhu. He looked him over from head to toe, then suddenly threw himself into Gu Wenzhu’s arms, hugging him tightly and trembling all over.
Xia Yi was ice-cold. Who knows how long he had been waiting at the village entrance? His clothes were damp from the night’s dew. Gu Wenzhu’s chest heaved, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
Slowly, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Xia Yi, holding him lightly yet firmly.
Da Zhu and the others exchanged teasing glances with Gu Wenzhu before walking off with a chuckle.
Xia Yi didn’t care if others were around. He clung to Gu Wenzhu, sobbing, “I don’t want that ‘heat suppression grass’ anymore. I just want you.”
“Brother Zhu, please don’t make me worry like that again. I don’t need anything else, just you.”
That night, due to the wounds on his back, Gu Wenzhu came down with a fever.
Xia Yi stayed by his side, not leaving for a moment. He called the doctor, brewed medicine, and carefully wiped Gu Wenzhu’s body with cold cloths to lower his temperature. When he saw the deep and shallow cuts on Gu Wenzhu’s back, his heart ached, and he trembled with sorrow.
Gu Wenzhu lay on the bed, his lips cracked, face pale, eyes half-open as he looked at Xia Yi.
Xia Yi leaned over the bed, then gently took Gu Wenzhu’s large hand, pressing it to his own cheek.
Gu Wenzhu swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding, and slowly rubbed his thumb across Xia Yi’s face.
“179, I think I might be bending.”
“Mm, I can tell. But remember, whether you bend or not, you still have to complete the mission.”
…
Gu Wenzhu’s strong body helped him recover quickly. By dawn, his fever had subsided, and within a few days, the wounds on his back had mostly healed.
During those days, although they didn’t say anything, both of them knew what was in each other’s hearts. When Xia Yi was busy in the house, Gu Wenzhu’s eyes were glued to him, and every glance they exchanged seemed to spark flames. Even eating a meal would take forever, with them taking turns giving each other food, laughing foolishly the whole time.
The entire courtyard was soaked in sweetness.
One day, Gu Wenzhu took out a wooden box and silently handed it to Xia Yi without saying a word. Xia Yi took it, puzzled. When he opened it, he saw inside—”heat-suppressant grass?”
Gu Wenzhu nodded, pretending not to care, but secretly glanced at Xia Yi’s expression.
The so-called ‘heat-suppressant grass’ was more like a ‘heat-suppressant mushroom’, resembling glossy, emerald-green mushroom. Xia Yi examined it in his hand and then handed the box back to Gu Wenzhu. “Sell it.”
His face was a little flushed.
Hearing this, Gu Wenzhu’s eyes lit up, and he immediately reached out to take the box.
“Host, have you decided to have a child?” 179’s voice suddenly chimed in.
Xia Yi jolted, pulling his hand back, stammering, “Let’s…let’s just leave it with me for now.”
Seeing the light dim in Gu Wenzhu’s eyes, Xia Yi hastily added, “No, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…I’m afraid of #@$#&.” The last three words were said in a whisper.
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid of #*%&#.”
Gu Wenzhu: …
Finally, Gu Wenzhu understood what Xia Yi meant. Clearing his throat, he looked away and said, “Actually, it’s okay if we don’t want to have a child right now.”
“We can @#?#@%?,” Gu Wenzhu murmured softly, his face also flushed.
“Do what?”
“We can @#?@%&.”
Xia Yi: …
In the end, Xia Yi still put the ‘heat-suppressant grass’ away. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Gu Wenzhu’s @#%& but that he was worried about the “what-ifs.”
In those interstellar ABO novels, didn’t the protagonist always hit their heat period unexpectedly? When no one was around, they’d randomly grab some passerby.
Of course, in the books, nine out of ten times—or actually, ten out of ten—that passerby turned out to be the male lead. But here? Other than Gu Wenzhu, Xia Yi didn’t want anyone else to play that role.
What if Gu Wenzhu wasn’t around when it happened?
Uncle Wang often came by the house, what if Xia Yi mistook him in a moment of confusion?
Better to be cautious and have a backup plan.
It wouldn’t be too late to sell the ‘heat-suppressant grass’ after passing that period.
…
The radishes in the field were growing larger by the day. Xia Yi would carefully dig away the surface soil from one to check how they were developing underneath.
179 was beside himself. “You’re going to ruin them if you keep digging like that.”
“I’m just moving a bit of dirt to look. I’ll cover it back up right away.”
“That still doesn’t mean you should only dig up one! Rotate between them, my goodness, you’re so stubborn it’s making my heart ache,” 179 fumed.
…
One night, Xia Yi was sleeping soundly when he was startled awake by Kirin’s furious barking and the sounds of a struggle coming from the yard.
His drowsiness vanished in an instant. Without bothering to put on shoes, he grabbed the begging staff from under his bed and rushed outside.
