Chapter 186: Extra (16)
Xie Jing had injured his hand, so Xie Siquan called a doctor to treat him, worried that his young age might make the injury linger.
The doctor examined him thoroughly, but the young master of the Xie family had a strong constitution. Nothing serious was detected, so the doctor only prescribed some tonic herbs to drink and suggested trying them out.
Xie Siquan had the herbs prepared as medicinal meals and brought them to Xie Jing daily. Xie Jing hated the taste of medicine, but seeing his uncle’s kindness, he could only pinch his nose and drink it down.
After several days of this, Xie Siquan noticed that Xie Jing was eating less. He knew his nephew disliked bitter herbal meals, but he thought that at least he was finishing a course, so he hardened his heart and continued feeding him the tonics.
Every day, Xie Jing’s meals grew smaller. By evening, he would only finish the bowl of tonic soup his uncle brought; the rest of the food he barely touched before running off. If Xie Siquan was at the saltfield and not home, he would skip meals entirely—avoiding even a bowl of soup if possible.
One day, Xie Siquan returned home and noticed someone had brought food down. On the wooden tray, the dishes were almost untouched.
He called out coldly, “Didn’t eat again today?”
The servant, terrified, stammered, “Y-yes… the young master doesn’t like this dish, it doesn’t suit his taste.”
“Go make it again and bring it over.”
The servant hurried off, but Xie Siquan added, “Forget it, I’ll do it myself.”
The family head went to the small kitchen, rolled up his sleeves, and prepared two dishes that Xie Jing loved. Having traveled extensively over the years, he had learned to cook a few specialties. One of the fish dishes turned out especially flavorful, and whenever Xie Jing ate it, he would finish an extra half bowl of rice.
After preparing the dishes, Xie Siquan brought them over, hoping to coax Xie Jing to eat.
It was evening, the room dim without lights. He vaguely saw a shadow on the bed, lying half-hidden behind the draped canopy, seemingly turned away from someone and asleep.
Thinking his nephew was sulking, his heart softened at the sight. He placed the food on the table and softly coaxed him: “You haven’t eaten properly these days. If the second master finds out, he’ll think we’ve been quarrelling. Listen to me. Tomorrow I won’t have the medicinal meals cooked. At least eat a bit when you get up.”
He stood there a while, gently coaxing, and called Xie Jing twice, but there was no response. Feeling puzzled, he lifted the canopy and found no one there—only an unrolled quilt. Beside the pillow lay a packet of pastries, unfamiliar in style to Sichuan. No guess needed—it was from Bai Jiu. The pastries had been half eaten, and the remaining crumbs smelled of sweet milk. Just a few pieces would fill one’s stomach!
Xie Siquan, frowning, was still staring when he heard a noise at the outer wall window—Xie Jing was climbing back in, a fried little fish hanging from his mouth.
Xie Jing boldly greeted him: “Hello, Uncle.”
Xie Siquan: “…”
He was not happy at all!
For days, he had worried, anxious that his nephew wasn’t eating. Tonight he had personally cooked for him in the kitchen. Just thinking about it made his chest ache with frustration.
Xie Jing twitched his nose and looked at the table. “Uncle made fish—it smells so good.” He walked over, wiped his hands, sat down, and began eating, praising the food repeatedly: “Uncle’s fish is the best. No restaurant outside can compare!”
Xie Siquan snorted, “You snuck food outside and still want to eat here?”
“It’s delicious, Uncle. You can’t get this taste outside.”
Xie Jing ate a lot, and Xie Siquan could do nothing but endure it, muttering a few complaints about Bai Jiu spoiling the child, and letting out occasional grunts. He was always soft-hearted toward Xie Jing.
Glancing at his arm, Xie Siquan couldn’t help but say, “Next time, don’t climb through windows. Go out the front gate.”
Xie Jing glanced at him secretly.
Xie Siquan chuckled. “I’m not stopping you.”
Xie Jing took a small bowl of fish meat for his uncle and said playfully, “Eat too, Uncle.”
Xie Siquan tapped his forehead and sat down to eat with him.
After that, Xie Jing no longer sneaked out. He rode out openly to visit Bai Jiu.
He was fascinated by the new experiences there and sometimes stayed out all night. Bai Jiu, as always, could tell him countless interesting stories. With the Bai family’s trading caravans having traveled so widely, the tales Bai Jiu recounted were full of twists and turns—more exciting than any play. The more Xie Jing listened, the more he longed to go on a big ship and see the world, feeling that only then could a young man be truly free and unrestrained.
One evening, as they sat drinking, Xie Jing listened to stories while his eyes watched Bai Jiu.
A lamp separated them. By the flickering light, Bai Jiu looked even more handsome than usual.
Xie Jing stared at him, then suddenly leaned in and kissed him. His face flushed red, and he tried to run.
Bai Jiu caught his arm just in time. “What was that for?”
Xie Jing stammered, face bright red. Bai Jiu leaned closer and lifted his chin with a finger, softly asking again: “Jing’er, what did that mean?”
“You… you’re so boring! Let go! I’m going home!”
Xie Jing was flustered, but Bai Jiu only laughed softly and leaned down to kiss him.
Xie Jing’s eyes widened.
Bai Jiu kissed him, teasingly trying to part his lips slightly, just intending to touch his tongue lightly—but Xie Jing immediately jumped back, almost falling from the couch. He covered his mouth with his hand, cheeks and ears burning, unable to say a word, and ran off.
Watching him flee, Bai Jiu placed a finger to his lips.
A child kissing him without reason, so innocent and inexperienced… yet he liked it.
And it wasn’t enough.
He wanted more.
