Chapter 7: Home-style Tofu (Part 7)
Leng Yue couldn't imagine - and didn't dare imagine - what other foolish things the two of them had done in that short span of two hours that could possibly surpass two grown men hugging each other while squatting in a fish pond.
Jing Yi took another small sip of warm water, sniffled slightly, and began speaking with a faint nasal tone, "This matter dates back seven years..."
Besides tending to koi fish, Jing Yi had another hobby: listening to storytelling.
Not only did he love listening, but he also enjoyed writing scripts. The most popular scripts currently being performed in several major teahouses in the capital were all written by him before he joined the Dali Temple as an official.
Whether it was creatures flying in the sky, running on the ground, or swimming in water, he could spin elaborate tales about anything.
Hearing that he was going to start from seven years ago made Leng Yue's head ache. "Wait... start from after I left."
"After you left..." His train of thought abruptly interrupted, Jing Yi thought for a moment before continuing, "I sat by his bed waiting for him to wake up. The moment he opened his eyes, he asked for water. I gave him a cup of tea, but as soon as it was in his hands, he splashed it right in my face. Then he jumped out of bed and poured the entire washbasin over me. When I saw him reaching for the kettle sitting on the stove, I told him there was water outside. Then he grabbed me and ran outside, and then... and then..."
Jing Yi couldn't help but sneeze again. Leng Yue swiftly snatched the cup from his hand, executing the move with such precision that not a single drop spilled.
Though she held the slightly warm porcelain cup firmly in her hand, her heart was still racing.
Having water splashed on him was one thing, but if that kettle sitting on the stove in Laba's room had been poured over Jing Yi's delicate, tofu-like skin...
They probably could have just added some oil and salt and started eating.
Thinking this, Leng Yue felt her own skin tightening all over.
Jing Yi rubbed his slightly sore nose with his now empty hand and finished dejectedly, "And then... when we passed by the fish pond, he hugged me and jumped in."
"He splashes you and you just stand there taking it, he pulls you and you just follow him, he hugs you..." Leng Yue gritted her teeth and shot him a glare. "Are you saving your qinggong skills waiting for them to breed a whole litter of little ones or what?"
Jing Yi shrunk deeper into the blankets with an innocent expression. Though newly married, he had ended up soaking in the chilly pond water with a delirious man and a bunch of silly, fat fish - it wasn't like he wanted this. "I just wanted to know why he splashed me."
"Did he tell you?"
Jing Yi nodded, shaking off a few water droplets from his disheveled hair.
Leng Yue had noticed Laba because his behavior in the kitchen was abnormal - not the kind of abnormal that comes from nervousness or fear, but the kind that comes from desperately enduring pain.
The reason Leng Yue thought Laba would do something foolish after waking up was because, according to Uncle Qi's description, Laba's reaction at the time was somewhat peculiar. His reaction didn't seem like shock, but more like he had received some hint and remembered something.
A taciturn fourteen-year-old orphan suddenly recalling painful memories related to a charred corpse - under such stimulation, anything could happen. It was impossible not to worry. But what Leng Yue wanted to know now was what exactly he had remembered that was so important, what gave him the right to splash water all over her husband, what gave him the right to drag her husband around the courtyard, and what gave him the right to hug her husband and jump into the fish pond.
"Why?"Jing Yi gently licked his slightly cool lips, hesitated for a moment, then looked at Leng Yue with difficulty. "This matter actually dates back seven years."
"...Go on."
"It's like this," Jing Yi cleared his throat and lowered his voice, "One autumn seven years ago, when the osmanthus flowers were in full bloom..."
Leng Yue thumped her cup on the table. "Summarize in three sentences."
"Seven years ago he married a wife, then his wife died, and later his entire family died."
"..."
Seeing Leng Yue's unpleasant expression, Jing Yi wisely rephrased his three sentences.
"Seven years ago his family arranged a child bride for him. Later his wife was disgraced and burned to death by the villagers. Then disaster struck the village and he was the only survivor from his family."
Instead of improving, Leng Yue's expression grew even darker. "When he splashed water on you and dragged you into the fish pond, was he mistaking you for his wife?"
"Initially... but then I made things clear to him, and he also clarified things to me. You heard him too - he even asked me to save his wife, didn't you?"
Leng Yue raised an eyebrow. She had indeed heard the plea for help, but that wasn't all she heard. "He sounded completely delirious to me. How exactly did you two 'clarify' things?"
According to Prince An, Jing Yi had quite a talent for interrogation. Where other officials couldn't extract confessions even after multiple rounds of severe torture, Jing Yi could get prisoners to confess everything clearly through peaceful means.
Given their different duties, Leng Yue had never personally witnessed his interrogation methods, but if Prince An said so, it must be true.
Still, she remained skeptical. Ordinary prisoners were one thing, but how could he achieve clarity with someone who couldn't even distinguish between men and women?
Jing Yi sniffled, his voice slightly nasal. "I didn't avoid the water he splashed on me. I went wherever he pulled me. When he dragged me into the fish pond, I jumped in with him. Even if he was delirious, he should have realized I meant him no harm... Besides, he believed I was the thousand-year fox spirit."
"...You're what?"
"The thousand-year fox spirit." Jing Yi tugged the quilt wrapped tightly around himself downward, exposing the left side of his upper body and a deep red mark near his heart. "He's heard the story I wrote - 'The Biography of Nine Immortals.'"
This mark had been with Jing Yi since birth. When writing his story, he'd given a thousand-year fox spirit in the tale an identical mark in the same location.
This book had been the most popular storytelling material in tea houses over the past six months. Leng Yue had heard several segments. In the story, this fox spirit with the red mark over its heart possessed the power to revive the dead. No wonder Laba, in his confused state, upon seeing the mark on Jing Yi's chest...
Wait.
"He saw your chest?"
Leng Yue's gaze turned icy. Jing Yi quickly wrapped the quilt back around himself.
He knew she naturally held grudges against all women who looked at him, but since when had this extended to include men as well?
Jing Yi blinked innocently yet helplessly. "If I hadn't shown him, he wouldn't have believed I wasn't his wife. He would have sworn to take care of me and protect me forever, tried to kiss me, and wanted to have a bunch of children with me... I only resorted to this as self-preservation."
Leng Yue's face darkened as if she were watching her own cabbage being devoured by a pig.Just as several servants happened to enter with bathwater, they tidied up and respectfully asked Jing Yi if he needed assistance.
Being a young master born and bred in comfort, soaking in the fishpond had left Jing Yi feeling utterly unwell. At that moment, he not only wanted someone to attend to him but also wished for those two skilled servants to massage his shoulders and knead his legs, preferably while heating a pot of osmanthus wine.
That was what Jing Yi had in mind, but before he could speak, Leng Yue shooed all the servants out.
Jing Yi sighed helplessly, wrapped himself in the quilt, and stepped out of bed barefoot. He walked to the steaming bathtub, hesitated for a moment, then turned to Leng Yue, who showed no intention of leaving. "Could you pull the screen for me?"
"What screen?" Leng Yue fetched paper and brush, choosing a seat by the tea table that faced the bathtub directly. "Just bathe like this. I'll be writing the autopsy report here. If there's anything I can't recall, I'll have you stand up and show me."
Show her...
Jing Yi didn't mind showing her, but...
In less than half an hour, Leng Yue had called him out of the bathtub eighteen times—looking eight times and touching ten. She had seen everything she should and shouldn't have seen, and touched everything she should and shouldn't have touched. By the time Leng Yue folded the completed report with satisfaction and put it away, Jing Yi's body was hotter than the bathwater.
"How did you get a fever so quickly?" Leng Yue felt Jing Yi's forehead, her phoenix eyes narrowing slightly as they swept over his flushed cheeks, ears, neck, chest, and everything below his chest submerged in the equally reddened water. "Are you uncomfortable?"
She leaned close to his face as she spoke, her skin like congealed cream, her breath like orchid fragrance. How could he possibly be comfortable?
He had the urge to pull her into the bathtub. Though he thought about it, in the end, he just nodded earnestly.
Jing Yi wasn't particularly ambitious, but he was still a gentleman at heart. Even with his properly wedded wife, such matters had to be mutually consensual.
Besides, when it came to the principle of "a gentleman uses his words, not his hands," his wife had never been much of a gentleman since childhood.
Leng Yue stroked Jing Yi's head as if petting a cat, her voice soft and dreamy. "Then why are you still huddled in the water? Come out and lie down on the bed..."
After all, she was his lawful wife.
Jing Yi breathed a sigh of relief, just as he was about to discard all restraint, when Leng Yue added with meticulous consideration:
"I'll go brew you a fever-reducing medicine. Drink it while it's hot, cover up to sweat, and you'll be fine."
"..."Leng Yue left without delay, humming a light tune as she walked away with a light step."
Jing Yi, on the verge of tears, dragged himself out of the bathtub, hastily dried off, and curled up in bed under the quilt, clawing at the sheets while making a vow to the wall: never again in this lifetime would he let anyone but Leng Yue lay a finger on him.
True to her word, Leng Yue brewed him a bowl of medicine. When she brought it, Jing Yi's exquisitely handsome face was still flushed.
"Drink it while it's hot, then rest. I'm going to visit your cousin's house."
Jing Yi's hand trembled, nearly dropping the medicine bowl he had just brought to his lips.
She wasn't a gentleman, and his cousin was even less of one.
She was only somewhat ungentlemanly toward him, but his cousin, who practiced cultivation aboard pleasure boats, was entirely unpredictable.
"You... you're going alone?"Leng Yue swept a glance over his tightly bundled body, her brow arching slightly and the corner of her lips curling upward. "Do you want to come with me?"
Jing Yi had no choice but to shake his head. He had no idea how Leng Yue had gained such intimate knowledge of his body, but she had just ruthlessly targeted every sensitive spot on him. Given the current state of things, he wouldn't be presentable in public for at least another half-hour.
"Then rest at home. Once you've recovered, finish copying the Biographies of Exemplary Women. You still have over six copies left out of seven."
"..."
Xiao Yunde's Linglong Porcelain Kiln was located in a secluded spot on the outskirts of the capital. While many had heard of the kiln, few knew its exact location. By the time Leng Yue found her way there, it was nearly noon.
Xiao Yunde stood with his hands clasped behind his back at the kiln's courtyard entrance, watching as Leng Yue reined in her horse right before him. His face—which bore some resemblance to Jing Yi's—was split by a grin so wide it seemed about to drip with syrup.
Leng Yue had never met Xiao Yunde before, but she recognized the man standing beside him, whose words were cut short by the clatter of her horse's hooves.
Jing Yi's third brother, Ministry of Rites official Jing Qian.
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