Chapter 180: Extra (10)
The Northern Bai Family settled into the Xie residence. The courtyard they were assigned was in an excellent location, and judging by its interior, it didn’t look like a guest room at all—it was luxuriously decorated and bright. There were lanterns hanging on the walls, a few gem-inlaid daggers gleamed under the light, and on the small table inside the inner room sat a plate of freshly picked loquats, still glistening with dew, tender and juicy.
Bai Jiu stood inside the room for a moment, then suddenly heard laughter and conversation coming from the courtyard. He walked to the window and looked out, and there he saw a familiar figure.
Xie Jing had changed into his home clothes—a plain white satin robe with subtle orchid embroidery at the collar and cuffs. His hair was no longer loose; it was tied back neatly into a ponytail, though a few of the small braids from before remained, still threaded with amber beads that clinked softly when he moved. The sound was bright and lively—he was the very image of a spirited young man.
He was standing in the courtyard, talking with Steward Sun Fu. The old steward looked astonished and delighted—he greeted him first with a bow, but Xie Jing immediately grabbed his hands, his eyes shining. “Uncle Sun! You came too?”
“Yes, yes, it’s me. Young Master, you’ve grown up—taller too!”
Seeing an old acquaintance from the north, Xie Jing was overjoyed. Forgetting all about propriety, he pulled the steward inside for tea. “Uncle Sun, I have some fresh new tea from this spring—wait here, I’ll get it so we can taste it together!”
The old steward dared not let him fetch it himself. Smiling, he followed him in and took over the work. “Young Master, best let me handle it. The Lord Bai Jiu brought only one set of snow-white porcelain teacups—can’t risk breaking them!”
While he brewed the tea and set it on the table, he laughed and said, “Do you still remember, Young Master? You used to be such a rascal—everything Lord Bai Jiu owned, his jade pendants, thumb rings, and even my keys—you used to toss them around like toys!”
Xie Jing’s face turned red. As a child, he had indeed broken plenty of things in the East Courtyard—especially since he loved following Bai Jiu everywhere. Every time he damaged something, the old steward had to replace an entire set.
Bai Jiu, sitting nearby, took a sip of tea and said mildly, “Go check on the courtyard.”
The steward acknowledged the order and left.
Xie Jing stood there for a while, glancing at Bai Jiu, then looking away.
“Why so uneasy in your own courtyard?” Bai Jiu asked. “Come, sit.”
Curious, Xie Jing came over and sat down. “How did you know this is where I live?”
Bai Jiu chuckled.
The answer was obvious. The room was filled with traces of him—the walls hung with exquisite decorations, and the tables and display shelves were lined with objects that clearly belonged to a wealthy young master. One look at their price and style, and anyone could tell this was the Xie family’s cherished son’s room.
Still full of questions, Xie Jing kept talking. The more he spoke, the more natural it felt—like returning to the easy days of childhood. The servants in the East Courtyard treated him the same as always, and many of the daily objects the old steward had moved in for Bai Jiu were familiar to him—it was as if nothing had changed all these years.
“Jing’er has changed,” Bai Jiu remarked, taking another sip of tea.
“I sent you so many photos,” Xie Jing grumbled. “Even if I changed, you could still recognize me—but you never once sent me any!”
Seeing that he wasn’t pretending, Bai Jiu asked softly after a pause, “The letters I wrote before—did you receive them all?”
Xie Jing nodded. “Of course. I even got one this March.” Then, looking a little aggrieved, he added, “But you’ve written less and less these past two years. You always sent me one on my birthday, but not this year.”
Bai Jiu was silent for a moment. “It was sent,” he said.
“Huh?”
Bai Jiu smiled faintly. “I thought Jing’er didn’t care to read what I wrote.”
Xie Jing was confused and pressed for an explanation. Bai Jiu gestured for him to come closer and whispered something into his ear. Xie Jing was ticklish, but curiosity won out—he leaned in to listen. Halfway through, he clapped a hand over his ear and jumped up, eyebrows raised.
“How could that be! Mother knows you write to me often—why would she hide your letters?”
Bai Jiu said, “Not Madam Xie. I only said perhaps it was someone in the household.”
Xie Jing thought for a long time, then asked doubtfully, “Could it be my uncle?”
Bai Jiu said nothing more, only drank his tea.
Xie Jing mulled over the idea for a while but still didn’t quite believe it. “Even if my uncle hid one letter, why have you written less and less over the years?”
“I’ve been abroad these past few years—had too many things I couldn’t leave behind,” Bai Jiu explained, coughing lightly. “On my way back this time, there was also a small incident. If not for that, I wouldn’t have brought so many guards. Did I frighten you this morning?”
Xie Jing was the kind who softened easily. Hearing that, his heart melted instantly. He shook his head. “No. I knew it was you. I wasn’t scared.”
Bai Jiu smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Good boy.”
Xie Jing didn’t dodge, though his ears turned red. He stammered, “Since you’re here in Sichuan, you should stay longer—like before. Live here with me.”
“And you?” Bai Jiu asked.
“I’ll stay with my uncle for now, but I’ll come see you early tomorrow.”
“All right.”
Bai Jiu nodded. After Xie Jing left, he looked around the room again, a faint smile curling on his lips.
It wasn’t a familiar place, but there was a familiar person.
That night, Bai Jiu slept soundly—and dreamed.
In his dream, he was back in the mountain forests he had passed through when he first entered Sichuan. Amid the greenery lay a clear pool, and in it a youth was bathing freely in the crystalline water.
Bai Jiu stood nearby; it was quiet all around. He could almost reach out and touch him.
The youth’s hair, tipped with amber beads, clinked softly—like the murmur of a summer brook. His body moved fluidly in the water like a silver fish; his skin was so pale it made his dark, elegant features stand out all the more. Those eyes—black and bright as inkstones—were enough to drown someone in a single glance. Water streamed down his straight nose and lips, splashing lightly on the stones around him, clear as glass.
Their eyes met. The youth rose, wrapped a robe loosely around himself, and stepped from the water toward him…
The next morning, Xie Jing came to eat breakfast with Bai Jiu.
When Bai Jiu had been at Zhuandou Town, he had brought Xie Jing plenty of good food; this time, Xie Jing laid out all of Sichuan’s finest dishes to share with him in return. But during the meal, Bai Jiu seemed distracted.
Xie Jing took a sip of tea, his lips glistening, and wiped them with his hand. Noticing Bai Jiu staring, he blinked. “Brother, why are you looking at me like that?”
Bai Jiu’s gaze followed the movement of his hand. “Did you sleep well last night?”
Though puzzled, Xie Jing nodded. “Quite well. Are you getting used to things here in Sichuan? If you need anything—food, clothes—just tell me. I’ll have people bring it over.”
Bai Jiu shook his head. “No need. I’ll soon be purchasing a residence here—perhaps we’ll even be neighbors.”
Xie Jing’s eyes lit up. “You’re opening a shop in Sichuan? So you’ll be staying long-term?”
Bai Jiu smiled and nodded.
Indeed, this trip wasn’t only about business—he had come prepared to stay.
Learning he would be settling down nearby, Xie Jing was overjoyed and lingered longer than usual. He’d always been fond of this elder brother; even at lunch, he refused to leave and stayed to eat with him.
Madam Xie Yuanyuan had food sent over, and the East Courtyard’s small kitchen added a few side dishes—including a plate of fresh fruit.
Xie Jing glanced at it, then couldn’t help looking again. “Are those crabapples?”
Bai Jiu laughed. “I knew you liked them, so I brought some. Take as many as you like.”
Beaming, Xie Jing picked one up and bit into it—it tasted just like in his childhood, sweet and tart. “Brother, do you remember everything from when I was little?”
“Of course,” Bai Jiu said. A child who’d grown up by his side—how could he forget?
As they snacked, they played a round of chess together. Bai Jiu was patient and gentle, and Xie Jing felt completely at ease with him.
By the time the plate of crabapples was empty, Xie Jing was thoroughly content. Standing up, he said, “I’ll come again tomorrow.”
Bai Jiu walked him to the gate. As Xie Jing turned to leave, Bai Jiu reached out and brushed his cheek. Xie Jing blinked, confused—then saw that Bai Jiu had plucked a fallen wisteria petal from his face.
“There,” Bai Jiu said softly. “All better.”
Xie Jing flushed. “I didn’t even climb a tree today.”
“Even if you did, it’s fine—you’ve grown up.”
Xie Jing looked up at him, feeling a warmth in his chest. He grinned, waved, and ran out of the courtyard.
Bai Jiu stood there, hands hidden in his sleeves, watching him go.
In his palm, he still held that single wisteria petal.
