Chapter 23

Just as Magistrate Wang and Magistrate Gu were rubbing their hands together in anticipation, feeling that their official careers were about to become smooth and prosperous, Gu Yun was facing a fatal dilemma.

Should he tell the truth, or continue denying everything?

Lin Yue did not press him. He remained incomparably calm, quietly writing out the assignments.

The wind blowing from afar was so light it softly whistled into Gu Yun’s ears, stinging his eardrums. It felt as though he had returned to the river that day, and he suddenly clapped his hands over his ears.

He did not know how much time passed before the wind weakened, almost fading into nothing.

Tentatively, Gu Yun lowered his hands. His gaze silently settled upon Lin Yue.

The first sheet before Lin Yue was already filled with writing. He lifted it and placed it upon a large stone nearby. The stone had been hauled back from the mountainside forest especially for drying freshly inked pages. To stop the wind from ruining things, he used a paperweight to pin down the blank edges of the paper.

Picking at his sleeve, Gu Yun walked over.

The fragrance released by burning branches and dead leaves, the scent of roasted tobacco, mingled with the soft rasp of brush tip against paper, stretching endlessly through the night.

Gu Yun’s breathing gradually lengthened as well. His heart became unusually calm.

When he reached Lin Yue’s side, he realised he was blocking the light and immediately shifted a few steps away before crouching down. Watching Lin Yue finish the final stroke of an incomplete character, he asked, “If a person behaves no better than a pig or a dog, keeping company with wolves and jackals, do you think such a person deserves to die or not?”

Lin Yue spread out a fresh sheet of paper and lifted his brush again.

“What do you think?” he countered.

“I think he deserves to die.”

After saying this, Gu Yun stared fixedly at Lin Yue, wanting a satisfactory answer. Yet the other man remained as calm as ever, simply continuing his work.

Gu Yun felt as though he had thrown a pebble into the sea, unable to stir the slightest ripple. Fear and anger welled up within him.

“You always make me answer your questions. Why won’t you answer mine?”

Lin Yue paused his brush. “All right.”

Gu Yun stared. “‘All right’? And then?”

“I understand.”

Gu Yun froze.

A sudden suffocating feeling seized him and his vision darkened. Just as he felt himself about to faint, he remembered that he could still breathe. Great gulps of fresh air poured into his lungs through mouth and nose alike. Slowly, he recovered, and much of the resentment that had accumulated inside him dissipated.

“You don’t object to what I said?”

Lin Yue replied, “Only when evil people are punished can others live in peace.”

“If I was bullied, would you help me kill the wicked?”

“So, you really did kill Zhao Shuilai. What did he do? Kidnap you?”

At last, Gu Yun made up his mind and slowly nodded.

Lin Yue seemed to return at once from some distant realm back into the mortal world. He laughed.

He had actually laughed.

What was there to laugh about?

Gu Yun’s thoughts became a complete mess. He pressed his lips together tightly.

Lin Yue only laughed for a moment. Turning slightly towards him, lowering his eyes, his entire demeanour softened. He gestured towards the burn wound on Gu Yun’s hand, the one treated with medicine several days ago, now covered by a thin healing layer.

“This is a burn caused by hot wax. I don’t know how you were burned by the wax, but after killing someone, you used fire to destroy the corpse. That’s ironclad evidence.”

Gu Yun immediately hid his hands behind his back. “I didn’t use fire to destroy the body…”

The memories of that day had been forcibly blurred by his own mind, yet the moment he began speaking, they became vivid again.

The sky had been high and deep, a solitary cold moon hanging overhead. The forest wind was freezing. The branches and leaves resembled the claws and fangs of demons. The faint smell of burning wax was sharp and choking. The lamp crackled noisily as it burned.

Bright red blood poured out in streams, winding snake-like across the ground, smearing together into a grotesque painting devoid of all beauty.

Then he grabbed the corpse by the arm, hauled it onto his back, and headed deeper into the forest.

It was terribly heavy.

To avoid leaving traces along the way, or getting blood on himself, he smeared a thick layer of mud over the fatal wound. Then he stripped off the dead man’s outer robe, rolled it into a bundle together with the mud-covered head, and wrapped everything tightly together.

His legs felt as though they were filled with lead.

After struggling on for a long distance, he finally set the corpse down, hooked both hands beneath its armpits, and dragged it onwards. After some time, he arrived at what he considered the perfect place to dispose of the body.

A cliff.

Below the cliff lay a stagnant lake, small in area but so dark green and lifeless it made one’s skin crawl.

He had once passed by this place while searching for wild fruits and vegetables.

Picking up a sharp stone, he slashed apart the corpse’s face. Afterwards, he gathered up every nearby rock and stuffed them into the dead man’s clothes.

Then—

Splash!

Within the deathly still surroundings, the sound of something falling into water rang out as loudly as a bell.

Birds burst into startled flight. From far away came faint wolf howls. The surrounding grass and trees shook ceaselessly, as though wild beasts or insects might leap out at any moment.

He snapped off a tree branch as thick as a finger to use as support, endured the pain in his knees, and hurried back the way he had come.

Perhaps he had walked quickly enough, or perhaps fortune favoured him. He encountered no accidents along the road.

Upon returning to the forest and nearing the scene of the incident, he halted. Hiding within a shadowed corner from which he could observe the area, he silently watched ahead.

Everything was quiet.

The woman had not returned with helpers. Or perhaps she had come back, seen the situation here, and fled again.

He stepped forward.

The blood splattered across the ground remained exactly as it had when he left. Aside from his own traces and those left by the dead man, there was nothing else. That confirmed his first suspicion had been correct.

He wrapped up the blood-soaked mud and the ashes from the burnt lampshade in his own clothes, then scattered them into the nearby river. Squatting beside the riverbank, he scrubbed the blood from his body.

The river water that day had been icy cold. The blood and mud clung to his clothes, hands and face like maggots. He scrubbed at them with tremendous force.

He remembered how frighteningly clear-headed he had been then, how utterly steady his emotions were, as though he were some seasoned serial murderer calmly carrying out his plan step by step, secretly revelling in the thought that the authorities would never catch him.

Perhaps because of that clarity and steadiness, he had felt as though he were walking upon clouds. Every step failed to touch solid ground, leaving him strangely weightless and drifting.

Gu Yun turned and lowered his head to stare at the scars upon his hands, feeling as though everything that had happened before had merely been one long, endless nightmare.

For a moment, he forgot what he ought to say next. Then he felt a dry warmth touch both sides of his face.

Startled, he straightened and lifted his eyes to meet Lin Yue’s gaze.

How could someone possess eyes so deep?

When they looked at you, the force within them seemed capable of piercing flesh and reaching directly into the heart, unknowingly leading you step by step into the trap laid by their owner.

For Lin Yue, however, this was the most harmless trap he had ever set.

He merely wanted to coax the other person out from the shadows and make him happy again.

The muscles in Gu Yun’s face twitched faintly as a smile slowly appeared. At first it was stiff, but gradually it became natural. His eyes curved downwards, light flowing within his pupils. His lower lashes tightened slightly, long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. On his left cheek appeared a faint dimple from the way he pursed his lips while smiling.

At such close range, Lin Yue could see not merely the dimple, but every subtle movement of the muscles across his face.

His hand slid down slightly. Extending one finger, he lightly tapped the dimple.

Gu Yun looked utterly astonished, even revealing a trace of foolish innocence.

Lin Yue withdrew his hand. “If you need my help, just ask.”

Gu Yun shook his head. “I already dealt with it.” He did not dare explain exactly how he had dealt with it. “Unless my luck is truly terrible, it shouldn’t be uncovered.”

Hearing this, Lin Yue’s gaze darkened as he stared deeply at the person before him.

From those words, he sensed something distinctly unusual.

It seemed Gu Yun had not seen blood only once. Yet rather than fear, the discovery stirred something entirely different within him.

It felt as though a cluster of flames had fallen into his blood, turning it burning hot. Excitement spread through his whole body. His muscles tightened, his eyes brightened, his breathing quickened, and even his fingers trembled faintly.

Gu Yun was not blind. Naturally, he noticed the strange reaction. A chill abruptly crawled up his spine.

Carefully, he asked, “Husband… what’s wrong with you?”

Lin Yue suddenly stood and walked out from beneath the bridge. He poured out the water from the bamboo tube and splashed it over his face.

The cold water drenched his features, streaming downwards and soaking into his collar.

“Nothing.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed once as he wiped away the water.

Gu Yun did not believe a word of it.

Nothing? This was supposed to be nothing?

By now, however, he understood Lin Yue’s temperament. If the man did not wish to speak, then his mouth became like the shell of a clam welded shut, utterly impossible to pry open.

He shifted closer and reached for Lin Yue’s sleeve. The other moved slightly, causing him to miss.

Gu Yun did not mind. After a brief pause, he naturally changed direction and grasped Lin Yue’s wrist instead.

“If something’s wrong, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

The wrist beneath his fingers was damp. At first touch it felt cool, but after only a few breaths, vigorous vitality and the warmth of youth tore through that chill, transmitting themselves clearly through their touching skin.

Unable to resist himself, Gu Yun squeezed Lin Yue’s wrist lightly. The feel of it was unexpectedly pleasant.

Lin Yue raised his hand, intending to brush Gu Yun’s hand away. Yet halfway through the motion, his gaze swept across Gu Yun’s relaxed brows and softened eyes. Something stirred in his mind. Without revealing anything, he quietly lowered his hand again.

“All right.”

After giving the wrist two more squeezes, Gu Yun finally let go.

Lin Yue returned to his seat, poured water into the inkstone, rolled up his sleeves, and began grinding the ink with measured force.

Seeing this, Gu Yun hurried over. “I’ll do it!”

Lin Yue handed him the inkstick.

Gu Yun had not offered merely in jest. He had learned calligraphy before. Though his handwriting had never become especially beautiful, he knew perfectly well how to grind ink smooth and usable despite the limitations of the ink’s quality.

Seeing how practised and natural his movements were, nothing about it offended Lin Yue’s instincts, and so he paid him no further attention.

Lin Yue soaked the brush tip, which had become somewhat dry from sitting unused too long, in a small dish of water. After dipping it lightly into ink, he lifted the brush once more and continued writing the assignments.

Gu Yun ground enough ink to last for quite some time, then sat nearby, watching Lin Yue write without blinking.

Many of the characters he did not recognise. But that did not matter.

He could memorise them by force. Later, once Lin Yue taught him properly, learning would become far easier.

“The opening topic statement: ‘Learning’ is not merely the seeking out of phrases and sentences, but truly the work of cleansing the heart and perceiving one’s true nature, the path by which virtue is illuminated and reason attained…”

Lin Yue’s voice suddenly sounded out. Gu Yun immediately looked towards him.

Lin Yue tapped the words upon the paper and repeated them once more. “If it feels difficult, once I finish writing, I’ll teach you slowly.”

“Say it again,” Gu Yun hurriedly said.

Lin Yue repeated the passage.

Gu Yun immediately read after him, then silently recited it several more times in his heart until he had committed it to memory.

Knowing he would certainly forget parts of it later, Gu Yun seized the moment and began matching the sentence against the written characters one by one, painstakingly recognising each word in turn.

Lin Yue continued writing the assignments deep into the night, while Gu Yun managed to learn three whole pages of characters. After firmly memorising the corresponding words from that first passage, he asked Lin Yue to teach him several more passages. Piece by piece, that was how he accumulated three pages’ worth of characters.

Delighted with himself, Gu Yun helped Lin Yue tidy everything away. Once they had finished, Lin Yue carried the brush and inkstone to the pool to wash them. After all, he had wasted the water earlier, and now there was none left to clean the brush and inkstone with.

Gu Yun smeared over the words he had written on the ground the previous day, then crouched down and began writing the characters he had learned today.

In truth, he had already written them several times over. But afraid he might forget them and waste all his effort, he copied them out once more. Later, when he went to sleep, he planned to close his eyes and revise them several more times in his head. That way, the memory would stick firmly and would not fade easily.

Lin Yue returned very quickly.

Before Gu Yun had finished writing, Lin Yue set down the brush and inkstone, stood beside him, and said, “You’ve already learned very well. Stop practising and get some rest.”

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll ask someone to accompany you to redeem the clothes. Originally, I intended to handle that today together with borrowing the books, but after everything else was dealt with, there wasn’t enough time, so we’ll have to leave it for another day.

“If we happen across anything cheap and worthwhile on the way, we can buy it too.

“We’ll rent a cheap house. Living out in the open like this is no good, and it’s easy to fall ill. Once we’re settled, we’ll also find a doctor. Your health needs looking at.”

Originally, he had intended to rent somewhere slightly better. Yet after hearing Gu Yun confess the truth, the anger inside him had ultimately faded, changing his mind.

When he first saw Gu Yun’s injuries that day, and the other deliberately concealed them from him, he had guessed Zhao Shuilai was responsible, merely assuming Gu Yun did not wish him to worry.

But once he heard news of Zhao Shuilai’s disappearance, everything became clear. He had only been waiting for Gu Yun to confess it himself.

If Gu Yun truly had not wanted him to worry, then he should have confessed at that point. Continuing to hide things either meant he possessed some unspeakable secret, or that he did not regard Lin Yue as trustworthy enough, believing that if Lin Yue learned the truth, he would only become a burden. Either possibility could easily drag him into danger. Such a person could not truly be trusted.

Naturally, if Gu Yun refused to confess, Lin Yue had little to say about it. Gu Yun would still remain his wife, merely a wife who required strict supervision.

Ever since losing his memories, the person Lin Yue understood most clearly was himself.

He was not a good man in the conventional sense. And he had accepted that version of himself, regardless of what circumstances had shaped him into what he was now.

Meanwhile, after Lin Yue said all that, Gu Yun focused only on the part he cared about most.

“Renting a house?!” he blurted out.

Lin Yue asked, “You don’t want to?”

Having obtained a result far more satisfactory than he expected, Lin Yue was in an unusually good mood and very willing to listen to Gu Yun’s wishes and accommodate them.

“I do!” Gu Yun flung himself at him.

Lin Yue’s neck brushed against soft, slightly dry hair. The sensation around his Adam’s apple was like being lightly swept up and down by soft feathers, stirring a faint itch deep within.

He ought to have pushed the other away.

Yet the moment he lowered his gaze and saw the head resting against his chest, all those oughts dissolved into a breath that escaped slowly from his lips.

One hand pressed against Gu Yun’s lower back, the other against the back of his head, drawing him firmly into his embrace.

“So clingy,” Lin Yue remarked.

Gu Yun could not understand how offering a hug had somehow turned into being clingy. It took him less than five breaths to work it out.

Right now, he was a woman. The other person’s wife.

From that perspective, this sort of action really was more intimate than a simple celebratory embrace. His still-functional secondary school brain quickly reached that conclusion.

The instant he realised it, embarrassment flooded through him. Red spread from his neck to his ears and across his cheeks, as though he were a child again, secretly stealing his mother’s rouge and smearing it over his face in front of a mirror out of curiosity.

Suppressing the urge to shove Lin Yue away, Gu Yun endured it. His face was currently buried against the other man’s shoulder and neck, making it somewhat difficult to breathe.

He poked lightly at the lower edge of Lin Yue’s shoulder blade, tilted his head slightly, and muttered in a muffled voice, “You’re holding me too tightly. Loosen up a bit, you’re suffocating me.”

Even after turning his head, his lips still almost brushed against the smooth skin of Lin Yue’s neck as he spoke.

He was so awkward and restrained that he entirely missed the sudden heaviness in the other man’s breathing.

Lin Yue did not grant his request. Gu Yun merely felt him shift slightly. The hand resting against the back of his head lifted the loose hair draped over his shoulder, slid along his shoulder, and lightly touched his ear.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” Lin Yue asked.