When Wang Xiaomie opened his eyes, the vibrant peach blossoms dazzled his vision. For a moment, he couldn’t even distinguish where he was. It took him a while to remember that he and Wen Fengjin had returned to the underground palace.
Someone reached out and pulled him close, pressing against his abdomen. His back was firmly against the chest and stomach of the person behind him, and there was even a ‘third person’ between them.
Wang Xiaomie’s lips twitched, and he raised his Iron Fist of Justice to strike. The man behind him groaned in pain, his chin resting on Wang Xiaomie’s shoulder as he hoarsely and stickily said, “Ouch.”
“It broke.”
Wang Xiaomie sneered, “No worries, our healing abilities are excellent. Even if it’s broken, it will grow back!”
Wen Fengjin’s breath was cool, and he chuckled quietly, “What if it grows crooked?”
Wang Xiaomie turned to glare at him, “It wasn’t straight to begin with!” It was already bent like a mosquito coil!
“Get up. Today is the day your friend is coming, right? Even though we’ve turned into zongzi, let’s tidy up a bit. It wouldn’t look good if our guest came and saw us disheveled lying in the coffin!”
Wang Xiaomie pushed him away, slipping his hand into the loose collar of Wen Fengjin’s robe. He touched the solid muscles inside. Wang Xiaomie was startled for a moment, then cleared his throat, touched a few more times, and nonchalantly climbed out of the coffin.
Wen Fengjin, with narrowed eyes, enjoyed the sensation of skin contact. When that groping hand left, his deep pupils slightly dilated. Wen Fengjin wordlessly used his tongue to press against his teeth.
Wearing a new fiery robe, Wang Xiaomie sat on a round stool. Wen Fengjin gently combed through his somewhat cumbersome hair with a horn comb, finally tying it up with a hairband and securing a jade crown and hairpin.
As Wang Xiaomie adjusted his clothes in front of a full-length bronze mirror, he closed his eyes and called out to Mu Yi and the others, mimicking Wen Fengjin’s manner.
When Wen Fengjin finished dressing, Mu Yi and the others arrived in the side hall.
“Um… What should we use to entertain our guest?” Wang Xiaomie hesitated for a moment and assigned tasks to Mu Yi and the others one by one. “There are many mechanisms in the tomb palace. Mu San, go and close any that can be closed. If the guest walks to the door and falls into some corner, what should we do? Also, those merfolk lamps, light up as many as you can to make it brighter…”
“We have many beautiful cups in the side hall… but I don’t know where to entertain the guest.” Wang Xiaomie turned to Wen Fengjin and asked, “Where did you guys drink last time?”
Wen Fengjin, listening to Wang Xiaomie’s arrangements with great interest, chuckled. “Just under the tree.”
“Alright…”
Wang Xiaomie thought for a moment and said, “Xiao Wenzi, remove the coffin and place it in the side hall. It’s not good to have a ‘bed’ when drinking. Then, Mu Wu, set up the small table and cushions from the side hall, along with those nice-looking wine cups.”
“Oh, and speaking of drinking, why didn’t I know we have wine in our tomb palace!” Wang Xiaomie stared at Wen Fengjin. “Are you hiding wine from me?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Pa’r rbwf yeglfv veglcu yegljir. P gjgfis vglcx la wsrfio.” Qfc Mfcuplc mbeivc’a tfiq yea ijeut. Qjamtlcu Qjcu Wljbwlf fjgcfrais mbwwjcv jcv gjmx tlr ygjlc ab jggjcuf atf abwy qjijmf, tf rjlv klat j rwlif, “Tbe gfjiis tjnf atf rasif bo beg Qfc ojwlis’r wlragfrr.”
Qjcu Wljbwlf: “…Djt.”
Qtb’r atf wlragfrr? Tbe’gf atf wlragfrr! Dfilfnf la bg cba, P’ii ajxf boo ws qjcar ab qgbnf la ab sbe!
Wang Xiaomie rolled his eyes at him and urged Wen Fengjin to go quickly. Mu Yi and the others happily rushed out with their assigned tasks, as if they found it quite amusing, treating it like a game.
Even Wen Fengjin, being directed by Wang Xiaomie, carried out his tasks with a kind of eager pleasure that left Wang Xiaomie puzzled.
He didn’t realize that, in Wen Fengjin’s eyes, his earnest and meticulous demeanor made it seem like he considered the tomb palace as home and developed a sense of belonging to it.
After Wang Xiaomie and the others finished their tasks, the entire tomb palace was transformed — no, not really, but at least it was well-lit, giving a warm feeling of home.
Wang Xiaomie couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Just as he was about to ask Wen Fengjin when the person would arrive, Wen Fengjin said, “He’s here.”
At that moment, Wang Xiaomie and Wen Fengjin were standing on a cliff pavilion connected to the high platform, arm in arm. Upon hearing Wen Fengjin’s words, Wang Xiaomie straightened his body and looked in the direction outside.
Rows of everlasting merfolk lamps illuminated the entire side hall, and a group of people quickly appeared in their field of view…
There was a young man wearing military attire, cradling something in his arms. With a beast-shaped waistband, soft armor draped over his body, and a long sword at his waist, his boots with embedded copper pieces made ‘tinkling’ sounds as he walked on the ground. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, only tying his long hair with a forehead strap and a long feather crown. He looked like a young general from a game, walking with big strides, relaxed and carefree. His attire was simple but not cumbersome, giving a lightweight appearance. As for his age, judging from his facial features, he was probably around nineteen.
Wang Xiaomie: …Of course, he might have been around nineteen while living. As for how many years he’s been nineteen… according to Wen Fengjin, it’s been about a thousand years.
The blurry ‘figures’ accompanying him stopped moving as they approached the side hall.
The young general continued to move forward, and his appearance didn’t match Wang Xiaomie’s expectation of a stiff, ugly zombie. Instead, he looked quite human. When he walked in, Wang Xiaomie could finally see clearly that he wasn’t holding an object but a person.
A person tightly wrapped, with no visible legs…
The newcomer clearly noticed them. He flashed a hearty smile at Wen Fengjin, exuding a sense of joy without losing respect. When he looked at Wang Xiaomie, who stood arm in arm with Wen Fengjin, he showed a surprised and curious expression.
Then, he raised his eyebrows high.
When he walked up, even before Wang Xiaomie could greet him, he said, “Congratulations to Senior Wen! Is this Madam Wen? I never thought I’d see the day you wake up.” His gaze swept over the intertwined arms of the two, with a hint of envy in his tone.
“The two of you seem to have a deep affection, unlike me and my wife. He only knows how to make me angry.”
Wen Fengjin smiled at the words, with a subtle hint of showing off, “Shixiong is indeed very considerate toward me.”
Wang Xiaomie: …Considerate who? Is that the Iron Fist of Justice that cut-off your line this morning?
And Madam? Wang Xiaomie discreetly examined the tightly wrapped person in the arms of the young general and asked, “Uh, is this your wife? Why isn’t she speaking?”
“Speaking?” The young general grinned. “You were nourished by the blood sacrifice of the Demon Lord, so you have such an intact body and consciousness. My wife and I, on the other hand, cultivated bit by bit from ordinary zombies. I shed my red hair in the first two hundred years and became a ‘Drought Demon,’ regaining full human consciousness and the ability to walk freely. As for my wife, his cultivation is slower, and he still can’t speak.”
He pulled open the white cloth covering the person in his arms a bit, revealing a withered ghost hand with needle-like purple fur and pitch-black nails. Wang Xiaomie was almost scared enough to jump up.
Wen Fengjin subtly pulled him a bit closer, helping Wang Xiaomie calm down his racing heart.
The young general across from them didn’t find anything strange about his ‘wife.’ Instead, he sweetly held the person in his arms with one hand and grasped the ghost hand with the other, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.
Wang Xiaomie: …!
WTF, can he really kiss that thing? Do your lips get pricked? Damn, I freaking believe in true love again!
Wen Fengjin, unfazed, pulled the stiff Wang Xiaomie and led the young general to the small table set under the acacia tree.
The small table already had warm wine, and the aged wine, hidden for who knows how many years, released its fragrance more enthusiastically in the warmth. As soon as they sat down, the young general, smelling the wine, praised “Good wine!” several times.
Even though there were only three cushions, seeing that the young general didn’t even put down his ‘wife’ despite being eager for wine, Wang Xiaomie didn’t call Mu Yi and the others over.
“Xiaomie,” Wen Fengjin suddenly called him.
Wang Xiaomie quickly sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”
Wen Fengjin smiled slightly, “Let me introduce him formally. This is the friend I mentioned before, a general from the Great An Kingdom two hundred years after our death. His name is An Xie, and beside him is his wife, An Chengjing.”
Wang Xiaomie quickly nodded at An Xie.
Wen Fengjin said to An Xie, “As for my shixiong, you already know him, so I won’t introduce him further.”
“I met Madam last time when I came. Although you hadn’t awakened at that time,” An Xie said, holding his wife protectively in his lap, “I am a military officer. As I mentioned to Senior before, both of you are famous figures in history. I’ve always admired the kind of relationship you two had. I never thought that I would have the privilege of meeting you two after death, thanks to Senior Wen’s acquaintance.”
“…Hehe, you’re too kind, too kind.”
Famous figures in history?
Are you sure it’s not infamous figures? Wang Xiaomie’s mouth twitched. Thinking about what Wen Fengjin did before he died and even more so after his death, Wang Xiaomie couldn’t help but feel amused. If Wen Fengjin hadn’t restrained himself, he might have blown up the emperor’s palace after Wang Xiaomie’s death.
And a relationship like ours? Wang Xiaomie thought, expressionless. What kind of relationship did I have with Wen Fengjin back then?
Oh, right. We were in the type of melodramatic mutual abuse going down a dead end, and in the end, I died, and Wen Fengjin followed suit in a lover’s suicide?
Heh.
What was there to admire about that, damn it!
Despite Wang Xiaomie’s internal mocking, when facing Wen Fengjin’s friend, he couldn’t behave as casually as he did with Wen Fengjin. It was their first meeting, and Wang Xiaomie wanted to make a good impression.
So, he tried to sit more dignifiedly and smile more gracefully.
The gatherings of friends in ancient times were actually simpler and more straightforward than those of modern-day good friends having meals and drinks.
Even someone like An Xie, a military general, didn’t boast boldly. Instead, he spoke in a reserved manner, using fancy words and poetry to engage in mutual compliments with Wen Fengjin. Occasionally, they would chat about popular tunes from the past, and Wang Xiaomie found the elegant language somewhat perplexing.
An Xie briefly talked about his past, and Wang Xiaomie learned that An Xie was the grandson of Duke Qing. Even though he later became a military general, he still came from a prestigious background with a refined upbringing.
Even as a zongzi, he was a handsome and wealthy zongzi.
However, in ancient times, the emphasis on family and social status far outweighed personal feelings. Ninety percent of high-status individuals had arranged marriages, where parents selected spouses based on matching social status. Wang Xiaomie sneaked a glance at the ‘wife’ in An Xie’s arms. He couldn’t believe that in such a background, there could still be a good man who stayed loyal to his wife even as a zongzi.
Wen Fengjin even said An Xie was similar to him.
How were they similar?
Both were men?
Wang Xiaomie secretly flipped off his family’s wild man.
