TSLSILMH Ch 35

Chapter 35

Xie Shu felt his throat dry, his lips pressing faintly tight as he forced himself to remain composed.

But no matter how he tried, the sight before him did not dim in the slightest.

The Young Lord sat half-reclined on the couch, draped in light robes, his skin paler than snow, eyes wide as he gazed at him in a daze. In one limp hand hung a golden-painted box of ointment. A faint whiff of herbal fragrance mingled with the delicate sweetness of his own body scent, saturating the air.

Yu Chuxi fixed his eyes upon Xie Shu, standing motionless there. The gaze laid heavily upon him, unbroken. His features as cold as ever, yet beneath the slanting shafts of sunlight through the lattice, there flickered a shadowed glow, like sparks smoldering in the dark.

Though he had not even moved closer, that gaze seemed to sear his bare skin, licking at what little of him lay uncovered. Yu Chuxi’s breath quickened, his heart pounded. Stirring in his body was a strange, never-before-known sensation.

He tried several times to clutch his robe closed or slip beneath the quilt nearby, but under that gaze he found himself unable even to cover his exposed calves.

At last, he could not contain himself. His long lashes fluttered, his voice trembling softly at the end: “Xie Shu…”

Only then did Xie Shu wrench his eyes away. He realized he had been staring at him far too long in such a state.

When reason returned, confusion swept him. Should he withdraw immediately, sparing them both this embarrassment? Or should he apologize for his offense?

But then he knew—neither would do.

He must not leave the shame behind for the Young Lord to bear. There was nothing untoward in him applying ointment in his own chamber—he was the one who had reacted wrongly.

So, forcing natural composure, Xie Shu lifted his gaze once more—but now kept it carefully, respectfully, upon his face alone.

The Young Lord’s cheeks flushed faintly, lips moist with sheen.

Quietly, Xie Shu asked, not knowing his voice had deepened with a husky edge: “Young Lord, is that medicine for your leg pain?”

Hearing his familiar gentleness again, Yu Chuxi’s alarm eased, though that strange sensation lingered.

He tucked his ankle instinctively beneath the quilt, kicking lightly at the covers. He did not want him to leave—even if that gaze unsettled him so.

Lowering his lashes, cheeks flushing red, Yu Chuxi murmured in a small voice: “It’s inconvenient for me. Won’t you come help me?”

The request made Xie Shu’s mind flash blank once more.

Yet he did not refuse. Composed and steady, he sat beside him, taking the box from his hand.

Once again, just as last night, the Young Lord rested his slender legs across his lap.

But how different day was from night.

Now with no cloth between, Xie Shu’s eyes fell upon soft white skin glowing faintly as though with light. When he dipped his fingers into ointment and smoothed it against that skin, it seemed almost to cling to his touch.

And Yu Chuxi too felt it—those slightly calloused fingertips gliding across bare flesh drew little sparks, like tiny currents coursing through him.

At last, Xie Shu gently lifted his foot, working the salve into every line and curve. Not a word was spoken, the silence so deep that only their breaths lingered between them.

When he had finished, Xie Shu closed the jar and returned it, asking softly: “Young Lord, does it feel better now?”

Yu Chuxi curled his leg back beneath himself, nodding, bright eyes shimmering like starlight. “Much better.”

Xie Shu, the corners of his lips lifting in a faint smile, replied, “That is good.”

Then, remembering the elder from earlier that morning, he recounted it all.

Yu Chuxi’s eyes turned thoughtful. He too recalled the man from the day before.

“This gentleman is not local,” he said slowly. “I’ve not heard of Abbot Xuanzhen having such a friend. The cloth shoes he wore seemed ordinary, but they were made of coarse hemp weave, called suo—rare here in the south, where silk is favored. I have only seen such workmanship on northern merchant vessels. I’d wager he is from the capital.”

Xie Shu was surprised. His reasoning made sense. He nodded. “Indeed, it seems he is no common man.”

Then Yu Chuxi asked softly, “Xie Shu, do you mean to take him as your master? I think you might succeed. Why else would a man of such age travel all the way from the capital to Jinling? If only to visit an old friend, why never before? He showed no weariness—he must have had carriages with him, left below with luggage too heavy to bring up. He came here for a purpose.”

Xie Shu felt warmth, replying gently, “Thank you, Young Lord, for clearing my doubts.”

Indeed, he did wish to study under that gentleman, but had feared the scholar was merely passing through. If as Yu Chuxi believed, he meant to settle in Jinling, then his chance was real.

Yu Chuxi’s lashes lowered; he shifted lightly, then glanced at him. “Lie down too. Tomorrow you must rise early for him. Best you rest now.”

Catching his look, lounging lazily on the couch, robe adjusted but his pale throat still visible, Xie Shu’s eyes flickered away at once. Nodding, he lay beside him.

That night, by midnight, Xie Shu stirred awake. Moonlight streamed cool through the lattice, spilling silver across the floor.

Far from drowsy, he felt sharp with energy. He and Yu Chuxi had spent nearly the whole day resting, speaking idly, napping side by side. This sense of leisure he had rarely known since falling ill upon entering this world. Back then, even sleep had been restless. Only now could he awaken gently, in peace.

Rising carefully so as not to disturb him, he found Yu Chuxi already awake, sitting by the window, holding an unlit lamp.

At the sound, he turned, smiling lightly. “You wake this early? I was just about to call you.”

Bathed in moonlight, his beauty seemed haloed. Loose hair spilling, skin pale as frost, his smile brighter than the moon itself.

Striking the flame, the lamp glowed between them. Xie Shu’s heart quivered.

So he had not slept at all—he had been waiting for him.

But how did he deserve such grace?

Taking the lamp from his hand, Xie Shu found himself reluctant to part from his warmth. Only when all in the chamber fell still, did he leave.

Night wind brushed gently as he climbed back to the cliff they had visited yesterday. Alone upon the edge, he felt no solitude. The lamplight in his hand stretched long across the mist, carrying warmth into the dark.

By the time Jiang Hong arrived, nodding in approval, he was surprised. He had deliberately set such a difficult hour, only to test whether the youth would keep his word. He was no idle hermit but wished to prove his resolve. Yet now, seeing him present early, with calm patience and even a smile—his heart stirred strangely.

“Here on a sheer cliff,” he asked, “why do you wear such a look, young friend?”

Bowing, Xie Shu answered: “Master, I was gazing upon heaven and earth, thinking how vast, measureless the cosmos may be. And yet to witness this in the same day, to share these moments of the world—this is my blessing.”

At these words, Jiang Hong’s heart was struck. Since the ancients, gazing at heaven and earth brought only sorrow for mankind’s insignificance. Yet this youth instead saw joy, treasured the connection of all things. Not only wise, but with a heart wide and clear.

Unbidden, Jiang Hong thought of one of his former students—if that man had possessed even half this boy’s clarity, his fate might have been far different.

His last reserves of hesitation dissolved. He looked deep into Xie Shu’s eyes. “Yesterday, I told you I could answer your doubts. Today, I have changed my mind. To impart the Way, to teach and guide—that I shall do.”

A teacher exists to spread the Way, teach knowledge, and resolve doubt.

As the night waned, silver dawn edged the horizon.

Xie Shu bowed with a simple disciple’s rite. Jiang Hong, disdaining ritual, only said: he bore the surname Jiang, and henceforth Xie Shu might call him “Master Jiang.”

He planned to linger at Qixia a few more days, then gave an address of his residence. Within ten days, Xie Shu was to formally visit.

Smiling at such unrestrained grace, Xie Shu asked nothing more, and descended.

By then the morning was still soft gray, the maids not yet risen.

Returning to his quarters, he found the Young Lord curled asleep on the bed, breath slow and steady, long hair tumbling over his pale neck, soft and endearing.