Chapter 29: Chang’an Part 4

Chang’an lay too close to Liao Territory, its skin scraped bare by successive dynasties for a thousand years—no more oil to squeeze. Thus, this ancient capital gradually withered. Even the city walls lacked funds for repair, and amid famine, masses fled to Hanzhong, Luoyang, or Kaifeng.

All at the table sighed over Chang’an’s past glory and present straits. Unknowingly, Xiao Kun had begun to see himself as a Han person. The prefect earnestly requested repeatedly that, upon returning to Kaifeng, Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian put in good words for him—at least to transfer to Jiangnan.

Then, subordinates presented a small box full of silver taels. Xiao Kun was about to refuse when Xiang Xian accepted it.

By the time the banquet ended, it was deep into the night.

Xiang Xian trailed Xiao Kun, trying to coax him while barely holding back laughter. Xiao Kun whirled around suddenly, and Xiang Xian quickly made a surrendering gesture.

“You made me lose all face today. How will you make amends?” Xiao Kun said sternly. “You tell me!”

Knowing he was in the wrong, Xiang Xian said, “You draw on me too. I won’t wash it off tomorrow—we’ll parade through the streets. Deal?”

Xiao Kun: “Do you think I’m a child like you?”

Xiang Xian laughed and followed closely. Xiao Kun said, “Promise me one thing, or I won’t let you off with just a beating. This official can’t vent his anger otherwise.”

“Deal,” Xiang Xian agreed readily. “What do you want me to do? Say it.”

“I haven’t thought of it yet,” Xiao Kun said as he entered the room and wiped the remaining ink stains from his face. “I’ll say something when I do.”

Xiang Xian leaned against the couch. After days of continuous travel and the fatigue of carriages and boats, he finally had a place to sleep properly. He said, “Then you’d better think hard about it.”

Xiao Kun had originally thought that Xiang Xian was someone who was hardly ever serious, so this was a perfect chance to get a hold over him and make him easier to boss around in the future. As for the grudge over the face-painting prank, he had long since stopped caring about it and just saw it as normal playfulness.

He undressed and began wiping down his body and changing clothes. Xiang Xian watched for a while, yawned, and grew too sleepy to stay awake. He lay down on the couch.

“Get up,” Xiao Kun said. “This is my room!”

Xiang Xian rolled over, ignored him, and fell asleep.

In his dream, Xiang Xian suddenly felt Xiao Kun holding his hand. He whipped his head around, momentarily unsure whether they were in a dream or reality, their breaths mingling. Then Xiao Kun leaned in and kissed him.

“Hey!” Xiang Xian tensed up. “What are you doing?”

“Shh.” Xiao Kun signaled for silence.

Where was this? Inside the Exorcism Division? To his surprise, Xiang Xian felt a thrill like they were having a secret affair, both nervous and uneasy. He instinctively turned around, embraced Xiao Kun, touched lips with him, and they began kissing. They wore only thin clothes, their scorching skin trembling through the single layer.

“Big Brother?” Chaosheng patted Xiang Xian’s face. Xiang Xian woke up at once and yanked the blanket up to cover his body.

When he opened his eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. Somehow, his outer robe had been removed, leaving him in just a single layer under the blanket on the warm couch.

“Get up quick!” Chaosheng came in and shook him. “Let’s go out and play!”

Xiang Xian rubbed his sleepy eyes, his heart pounding wildly as if he were still in the dream. Perhaps the tussle with Xiao Kun the night before had caused such a strange dream. It took him a good while to calm down.

Xiao Kun practiced his knife forms in the courtyard, shirtless. His snow-white upper body blended with the snowy scene, except for the red-and-black martial robe tied around his waist, which flared like a blaze amid the flashing dual knives.

“We have a case to investigate,” Xiao Kun said as he sheathed his knives. “Chaosheng, Big Brother can’t play with you today.”

Chaosheng asked, “Can I go out with Old Wu then?”

“Fine, but only inside the city.”

Xiang Xian replied with a yawn, regaining his spirits as he draped his robe over himself and went to wash up. By the time he reached the main hall for breakfast, Xiao Kun had already tidied up and begun reviewing the case report on the Chang’an Prefect’s extermination.

“Wang Chao Ying,” Xiao Kun said. “Fifty-six years old, born in the first year of Xining.”

Xiang Xian gave Xiao Kun a slightly puzzled look. After that dream last night, he couldn’t help stealing glances at him. Xiang Xian found Xiao Kun not only handsome but also very appealing the more he looked—cold and unapproachable at first sight, like a stern beauty, but oddly cute once familiar, especially when he earnestly fulfilled his duties as Chief Exorcist Envoy.

“His parents were already deceased,” Xiao Kun continued. “At forty-seven, he served as supervisor of the Hedong Circuit. At forty-nine, he took three years of mourning leave. At fifty-two, he was transferred to Chang’an Prefect. Having been a supervisor, he must have known some martial arts. Hey! Master! What are you thinking? Not awake yet? What’s with that look?”

Xiang Xian: “I’m listening.”

Xiao Kun: “What did I just say?”

“Based on the victim’s background, rule out revenge murder?” Xiang Xian snapped back to attention, sipped his tea, and ate breakfast as he asked.