TSLSILMH Ch 4

Chapter 4

Xie Shu gave a small nod upon hearing the words. Just as he was about to step into the pavilion, he suddenly noticed that Xi Mo remained standing in place, seemingly intending… to wait outside.

This hadn’t occurred to Xie Shu before. After all, these past few days, Xi Mo had attended him closely. With Xi Mo constantly by his side, Xie Shu hadn’t felt completely lost in this unfamiliar world.

Catching Xie Shu’s slightly raised brow, Xi Mo’s heart trembled, and he hurried to plaster a pleasing smile onto his face—yet his feet remained rooted where they were, immobile.

A moment ago, he had already asked one of the elder girls here and learned that Yu Langjun had some rare leisure time today—an opportunity not easily come by. He absolutely mustn’t interrupt this chance for his master to be alone with Yu Langjun.

Silently, Xie Shu withdrew his gaze. Very well—sooner or later, he would have to adjust to being his current self.

Nevertheless, when he stepped into the pavilion, a rare sense of inexplicable nervousness welled up inside him.

As he entered, several servant girls who opened the door for him sneakily glanced his way.

Xie Shu had encountered such situations often in the modern world. Yet this time felt completely different. The looks in the girls’ eyes carried faint traces of disdain…

And judging from their reluctant forms of address, it wasn’t his imagination. But Xie Shu was well aware of the situation and responded only with a carefree smile, undisturbed.

In truth, the servant girls had their reasons. Over the past three years, Xie Shu had visited Yu Langjun only a handful of times—and even those visits were for other purposes.

Just recently, when they heard that Xie Shu had fallen into the water and was now suddenly seeking out Yu Chuxi, they thought surely he came with ambitious motives.

Were it not for Xi Mo’s polite requests earlier, and the fact that Xie Shu was nominally Yu Chuxi’s husband, they wouldn’t have accepted him so easily.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t find another way.

The servant girls led Xie Shu to a smaller side room, then coldly said, “Master Xie, Yu Langjun is busy working in the study right now. Once he finishes, he’ll come to see you. We wonder if Master Xie has the patience to wait?”

These words were clearly laced with barbs. After all, even though Yu Chuxi was now the young successor⁽¹⁾ of the Yu family, many outsiders still saw him as a shuang’er⁽²⁾, incapable of commanding respect. And given that Yu Chuxi was technically Xie Shu’s husband, the latter part of the comment was meant to provoke him.

They assumed such words would surely make Xie Shu angry enough to storm off. Yet to their surprise, Xie Shu’s expression remained calm. He even nodded in agreement and said, “I indeed should have informed him in advance. If Langjun is busy, that’s quite alright. I’ll wait here.”

Xie Shu spoke with sincere intent. The other man was, after all, the young master of the household, and no doubt very busy. Xie Shu had come only to deliver his thanks—what harm could there be in waiting a while longer?

They hadn’t expected such a response. The servant girls looked at one another, unsure of what to do. In truth, they weren’t naturally mean-spirited; they only wished to protect Yu Chuxi.

Xie Shu paid them no further mind. After seating himself, he began examining his surroundings.

Unlike the airy openness of his own quarters, here was an ambiance of elegant luxury.

Inside stood a long couch of nanmu⁽³⁾ wood traced with golden inlay. Atop the couch sat a small zitan desk, upon which were placed a fragrance box, porcelain teacups, and several ceramic vases filled with seasonal flowers.

Lowering his gaze, Xie Shu silently admired the refined setting.

After hesitating a moment, one of the servant girls finally poured him a cup of tea before leaving the room.

Once all had exited, Xie Shu rose and took a look around. His eyes were quickly drawn to a painting hanging on the wall.

Xie Shu sometimes painted himself—though rarely, as his past life left him little free time. Even so, his ability to appreciate art was not lacking.

The painting was done in ink wash, depicting peach blossoms blooming in the mountains. Though it only comprised a few gentle brushstrokes sketching the forms in light detail, the curved peach branches and beguiling blossoms radiated life and spirit.

His gaze fell to the bottom of the painting, where the artist’s name was inscribed. The characters were tiny, but he was just barely able to discern them: Yu Chuxi.

Lost in thought, Xie Shu didn’t notice the entry of a figure clad in moon-white robes embroidered with orchid patterns.

Not until a voice behind him softly rang out—clear as shattered jade, neither too warm nor cold, elusive and distant like mist over the sea—did he start:

“Xie Shu.”

The sound brought him back to himself, and his heart gave a subtle jump.

He turned around, first catching a whiff of faint fragrance lingering in the air around the other’s sleeves—a scent distinct from the incense or fresh flowers displayed in the room. Oddly, it felt familiar… as if he had smelled it once before, some days earlier, while still hazy and delirious. But he hadn’t had the chance to remember it then.

He didn’t find it strange that the other man carried fragrance—after all, it was customary for nobles to wear scent. Given all that had occurred before, Xie Shu had already conjured a general impression of what sort of person stood before him.

Yet when he saw Yu Chuxi with his own eyes, it was entirely beyond what he had expected.

The other man’s features were so captivating they bordered on radiant beauty—brows like ink paintings, lips like cinnabar. His long, jet-black hair flowed like silk down his robes, setting off a complexion pale as carved jade.

Though his face was delicate, his frame stood tall and elegant—completely devoid of effeminacy. Only the tiny red mole below his phoenix eyes⁽⁴⁾ added a strange, glimmering charm.

Xie Shu’s gaze couldn’t help lingering at the corner of Yu Chuxi’s eye—for when he had first awakened days ago, it was that very mole he had seen at first glance.

Yu Chuxi, in turn, calmly returned his gaze, his mood complicated and hard to describe.

In truth, being stared at like this—especially at his mole—would typically be insulting. And given the nature of their official relationship, it was even less appropriate. Yet for reasons he couldn’t explain, Yu Chuxi did not feel indignant or uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because the other man’s gaze was clear, untainted—pure appreciation free of ulterior motives.

Still, Yu Chuxi soon found such thoughts utterly baffling.

Though they had met only a few times in the past three years, he knew exactly what kind of person Xie Shu was.

And he had already guessed why this man had come today…

Thinking of this, Yu Chuxi narrowed his eyes slightly, his fingertips brushing gently over the cold, supple paper tucked in his sleeve.

Just then, Xie Shu retracted his gaze, narrowly missing the faint light flickering in Yu Chuxi’s phoenix eyes.

Xie Shu had just been weighing his words. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to address Yu Chuxi, since he wasn’t clear on the familial terms in this case. But in any case, it shouldn’t differ much from what others used.

“Lesser Master” sounded too formal, while “Yu Langjun” would be too distant. Better to drop the surname and simply call him “Langjun.”⁽⁵⁾

Thus, he opened with, “I came this time to thank Langjun in person.”

As soon as he spoke, Yu Chuxi’s brows twitched slightly.

Xie Shu went on: “I’ve been gravely ill these past few days, and were it not for Langjun’s care and for summoning Doctor Zhang to treat me, I fear I’d still be languishing in bed. I’m deeply grateful.”

After he finished, Xie Shu didn’t expect any particular reaction. After all, these words were just polite formalities—it was likely Yu Chuxi saw right through them.

But to his surprise, Yu Chuxi didn’t immediately respond.

From what he could tell, someone in Yu Chuxi’s position shouldn’t be so unresponsive. Had he said something wrong?

Xie Shu unconsciously looked toward Yu Chuxi again.

Sensing his gaze, Yu Chuxi reluctantly came back to himself.

What exactly is this man trying to do?

By all accounts, these superficial pleasantries should have aggravated Yu Chuxi—but strangely, he found something about them amusing. A light laugh escaped his lips. “It’s nothing. In fact… this is the first time you’ve ever thanked me.”

There was a subtle jab in his words.

Xie Shu certainly caught the implication, but as he had already surmised much of the original owner’s personality, he wasn’t surprised by others’ cold behavior.

Yet when Yu Chuxi smiled faintly, Xie Shu couldn’t help responding with a warm smile of his own. In a soft voice, he said, “Then I’ll have to thank you more often in the future.”

Yu Chuxi’s smile faltered, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

This kind of exchange—this kind of man—was something entirely new to him.

A while later, after delivering Doctor Zhang’s message, Xie Shu prepared to take his leave.

Before departing, he bid Yu Chuxi farewell. He couldn’t help but feel—though he wasn’t sure if it was merely his imagination—that Yu Chuxi had seemed as though he wanted to say something earlier, yet in the end, had said nothing.

After Xie Shu left, Yu Chuxi returned to his study.

Yet he did not immediately resume writing. His ivory-pale, slender fingers tapped quietly on the desk as his gaze dropped, swaying amidst the shifting light—his features glowing ever more strikingly.

Recalling what had just transpired, Yu Chuxi appeared lost in thought. After a while, he closed the object from within the cupboard and finally reached for the cinnabar brush on the inkstone.

The ink had long since dried, so he dipped again, carefully moistening it with fresh ink stroke by stroke.

Not long after, someone lightly knocked on the door and entered, placing an account book respectfully on the desk.

Yu Chuxi didn’t look up—he merely waved a hand to dismiss the visitor.

Just as the servant was about to leave, they suddenly remembered something and said, “Young Master, one more thing—earlier, someone from Master Xie’s side came to the accounts office to request medication. You had previously instructed us that once he recovered, there’d be no need to provide further aid. So I turned them away.”

This man was Mr. Wang, the storeroom manager. It wasn’t really anything worth reporting. After all, anyone who knew the internal situation understood the relationship between their young master and that scholar who had married into the family.

Moreover, hadn’t Yu Chuxi himself issued the order several days ago?

Still, with Yu Chuxi’s growing influence within the household, Wang had hoped to curry favor by bringing it up.

Just as Manager Wang smiled inwardly and waited for Yu Chuxi’s consolation, he suddenly heard the young man speak in a frosty tone: “You acted on your own. Send it to him again.”

Wang immediately trembled from head to toe, inwardly filled with regret—but what reasoning could one present now?

A moment later, Yu Chuxi seemed to think of something else and let out a soft chuckle. His tone turned playful: “Forget it. Find something even better. I’ll deliver it myself.”

Footnotes:

1. “Young successor” (少當家 / shào dāngjiā) – This title denotes Yu Chuxi as the heir apparent or acting head of the family while the main patriarch is absent or aging.

2. “Shuang’er” (雙兒) – A term sometimes used in literary fiction or historical fantasy BL (Boys’ Love) contexts. It refers to males who possess a feminine appearance or abilities often associated with women (such as bearing children). Not a real historical classification.

3. Nanmu (楠木) – A type of fragrant, durable wood used in high-end furniture and buildings in ancient China.

4. “Phoenix eyes” (鳳眼 / fèng yǎn) – An aesthetic term in Chinese to describe eyes that are long, narrow, and gracefully curved upward at the corners; often associated with beauty and nobility.