The last of the autumn flooding course through their territory as it winds its way northeast past Ye, passing a series of dangerous rapids, pouring endlessly downstream.
“We’ll have to dig a ditch right here for irrigation next spring,” Duan Ling says.
“Yeah.” Wu Du stares off at the distant shore. There are too many things that he needs to do. Whenever something requires physical strength, he’s the only one who could do it.
Every once in a while he’d check the surrounding terrain; the mountains to each side of them have formed a deep ravine here, and the Xunshui would rise sharply every year at the beginning of summer. Once the Ninth Month passes, the waterline would gradually subside again. In the central northern region of Hebei, the Xunshui flows from the northeast towards the southwest, where it turns north of Ye towards the east, heading to the sea via Shandong.
“Then when the logs float downstream,” Wu Du says, “they’ll end up resting here. You’ve thought of everything.”
Four hundred people holding the reins of their horses ford the river carefully through this narrow pathway.
“Everyone, be careful,” Wu Du passes down an order, “we’re already in Liao territory.”
The opposing shore is almost deserted; the whole place had been plundered by the Mongols. Even though this was once Han soil, now there’s nothing but a bleak wasteland.
Hills and valleys litter the terrain, and nobody is keeping the highway clear anymore so the weeds have almost grown their way into the middle of the road. Originally, Wu Du was planning to rest during the day and march throughout the night so as not to alert the Khitans, but now that plan has turned out to be completely unnecessary — because there’s no one in the Xunbei region, to begin with.
They walk for an entire day and run into nothing but ruins of abandoned villages and weeds grown as tall as men. The Mongols had set fires to their homeland, but grasses and trees have stubbornly grown out of its ruins, covering up all the sorrow that once existed in this world.
They advance at an exceedingly slow pace. As they proceed, Duan Ling is also surveying the terrain, drawing a map all the while. They may have to do battle here in the future, and this is all extremely precious information.
One day later, they enter the Mount Mang region. Go west, and they’ll reach Xunyang; walk north, and they’ll get to Shangzi.
All along the way are wild beasts and birds, as there are many wild animals out hunting in autumn, so they can hunt game for food everywhere they go. Compared to Ye and Hejian, where there’s nothing but miles and miles of a barren wasteland, Xunbei is indeed fertile ground fit for settling on, but unfortunately, it has become completely deserted.
“We’re here,” Duan Ling says, “The Valley of Heishan is right ahead of us.”
Several rivers pass through the Valley of Heishan, tributaries gathering together before flowing south.
“Let’s begin,” Wu Du says, “everyone, start cutting trees down!”
Most trees in the Valley of Heishan are pine, but there are also firs and quite a few ginkgos. At the arrival of autumn, layers of golden yellows and deep greens seem to dye the entire mountain in their colours, while wide stretches of rocks cut through the scenery in black, hence how the Valley of “black mountain” got its name.
Wu Du finishes assigning patrols, while soldiers untie their lumber axes from their belts and take out a saw blade. Duan Ling had received a blueprint from Yan Di, and now he asks the soldiers to chop down one tree first, with which they would build a simple machine pushed by water, and on it, they’ll install a saw blade. This process takes them all day.
The water-powered sawblade is ready to use by dusk. They then toss the trees they’d chopped down into the stream where the water turns them, shave off the extra branches, turn them into wooden pillars, and push them aside. Once enough have accumulated, the entire batch is thrown into the river where it’s guided by some of their people downstream.
Duan Ling is working hard enough to get blisters on his hands. Wu Du tries to stop him, but Duan Ling tells him there’s no need to worry. He can do this.
“You’re not familiar with this sort of thing.” Duan Ling has been reading the diagrammed reports from Yan Di every single day. He puts on a pair of gloves, twists the wooden tenon into place, and says to Wu Du, “Just leave it to me.”
At nightfall, the soldiers leave their work behind to get some rest. Wu Du makes the rounds, and bonfires are lit up in the valley, filling the area with star-like points of light. They end up processing three pine trees within one day, and that’s including building a water wheel and time spent investigating the area when they first got here, so that’s already rather quick. If they keep going like this, starting from tomorrow they can chop down fifteen trees in a day at least. Within a month they’ll have cut down enough firewood for winter.
After dinner, Duan Ling is so tired that he feels sore all over, and he lies down in the wilderness with Wu Du to stargaze.
“Your mother was from Hebei?” Wu Du ask.
“Yeah,” Duan Ling turns to his side, studying Wu Du’s features. “Milord, where you from?”
Their faces are leaning close to each other’s, and Duan Ling reaches out to touch Wu Du’s nose, his eyebrows, his nose. Wu Du starts to laugh, and he grabs Duan Ling’s hand, gripping it between his fingers.
“What part of the country does it look like your lord is from?” Wu Du asks.
“You look Tangut,” Duan Ling says, deadpan.
Wu Du seems taken aback for a moment.
“Because my dad used to say that Tangut men look proper, with symmetrical features.” Duan Ling says smilingly, “And, Tangut men go around acting like dogs in heat all the time.”
Wu Du manages to catch that the last half of Duan Ling’s sentence was to make fun of him and immediately flips them over, putting his weight on top of him. “You’re right. Looks like I really am Tangut …”
Duan Ling begs for mercy at once; he’s worked all day, his entire body is sore, and he doesn’t have the energy for this madness at all. With Wu Du’s weight pressing down on him he just keeps screeching. But Wu Du presses his nose up against his and kisses him.
“What part of me looks Tangut? Tell me,” Wu Du leans in close to Duan Ling’s ear to whisper.
Duan Ling’s fingers glide over Wu Du’s rugged and distinct features, whispering, “here … and here …”
He reaches down, untying Wu Du’s belt, revealing the clean, snow-white underclothes he wears beneath. His copper-coloured chest is brimming with power, like a Tangut hunter who spends all his time on the back of a ferocious horse. His abs are hard and well-defined, like that of a horseman galloping on the grassland.
“And … here.” Duan Ling can feel Wu Du’s cock pushing against his lower abdomen, already hard, and he reaches down to his pants to wrap his fingers around that massive, erect thing.
Wu Du’s cock is thick, long, and beautiful, suffused with male power like the hilt of a longsword. Duan Ling wraps a hand around it, his thumb drawing light circles over the glans. “And … here too.”
“You touched that Tangut kid down there?” Wu Du says with a hint of jealousy.
Duan Ling starts to laugh. “Sure I have. When we were little and still in school, we bathed together.”
He did bathe with Batu and Helian Bo, but back then they were all half-grown kids. He’s never felt one like Wu Du’s, filled with the aggression of an adult male.
“Whose is bigger?” Wu Du lightly raises an eyebrow.
“Of course, yours is bigger,” Duan Ling says sincerely.
And it’s true; out of all that he’s touched and seen, Wu Du has the biggest one out of all of them. But of course, he can’t rule out the fact that they were all kids back then. By now, Wu Du has already taken things one step further by untying the string to his pants and taking off his robe. Completely naked, he leans back and straightens his spine. Duan Ling is half sitting up, and he finds it visually all too stunning, really; Wu Du’s strong, muscular body is radiating with the sensual attraction of an adult man, making all the blood rush to his head, suffusing his cheeks with a blush, sending heat through the shells of his ears.
“Want to taste it?” Wu Du holds his cock by the base of the shaft and brings it near Duan Ling’s mouth. Breathing rapidly, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment, Duan Ling runs his tongue over the glans and then tries his hardest to pull it into his mouth.
Wu Du moves a little bit, and Duan Ling is stuffed all full of him, making a muffled sound in his throat. They’re both breathing harder, breath growing short, and soon Wu Du sits down and pats his thigh, showing Duan Ling that he should sit down and lay his head on his thigh.
Duan Ling puts his head down on Wu Du’s thigh, and as he sucks on Wu Du’s cock, he reaches up to toy with his already hard nipple. Gasping, Wu Du slides his big hand under Duan Ling’s clothes and strips him completely naked.
A mountain breeze brushes by, and Duan Ling can’t help but feel a bit shivery. Yet deep inside his heart Wu Du has so tantalised him that he feels scalding hot, as though he’s on fire. Wu Du wraps his arms around him and picks him up, smiling. “Didn’t you say you were tired?”
Duan Ling hums, agreeing, and with his arms around Wu Du’s shoulders, he sits up, straddling Wu Du’s waist. They’re both entirely naked now, sitting on a pile of scattered clothing, skin to skin and holding each other close. Wu Du’s fingers caress his spine, and he breathes in deep to take in the fresh, clean scent clinging to Duan Ling’s skin. Duan Ling, meanwhile, turns his head slightly to catch Wu Du’s lips.
“I want you,” Duan Ling whispers.
“Let me do the work. Just enjoy yourself,” Wu Du too, whispers back at him.
His cock is already scorching hot and hard as a cudgel, slowly invading Duan Ling between his thighs as it enters his body. It’s already wet and slippery, and as he glides in Duan Ling shudders, his hands gripping tight over Wu Du’s powerful shoulders, tears almost seeping from the corners of his eyes.
Wu Du only pushes himself in a little before he pauses, waiting for Duan Ling to adjust to him. Duan Ling keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the feeling of Wu Du’s cock entering his body. After a brief pause, Wu Du continues to push deeper inside him; this time, the entire hard shaft slowly penetrates Duan Ling’s body, giving him an exhilarating sense of being filled to the brim.
He opens his eyes to find Wu Du’s staring back at him, his gaze full of love.
Wu Du makes a swallowing motion with his mouth and throat and starts to smile with a smile that’s roguish and sly.
“Don’t all Tangut have dicks like a donkey’s?” Wu Du says with a laugh.
“I … I have no idea.” Duan Ling gasps, rubbing his temple against Wu Du’s cheek as he begs for mercy. “But yours really is too big. Not so hard.”
Wu Du only moves a little bit before Duan Ling starts to moan; this moaning sets of Wu Du’s wild base desires all at once, but alas, worried that it would hurt Duan Ling, he can only thrust into him slowly, one sliding stroke at a time.
Duan Ling straightens his spine so Wu Du can push deeper inside of him, but Wu Du instead mistakes this for his getting cold from the wind. He whispers, “Are you cold?”
“No …” Duan Ling is lost in the sensations, and almost all of his attention is settled on the huge thing intruding his body as that hardness gently probe the deepest part of him.
“Ah!” As it rubs against that most sensitive place inside of him, Duan Ling can’t help crying out.
The forest rustles as the wind caresses the leaves; the sky above, the earth beneath them, nature and the fresh scent of vibrantly living things make him tremble. Like the wind that sends a wave through the tops of the pine trees, Wu Du’s skilful thrusting sends pleasure coursing through his whole body like an incoming tide.
“I love you so much.” Wu Du’s voice says quietly by Duan Ling’s ear, sounding breathless, and he turns to kiss him ferociously, so hard that Duan Ling’s lips go soft and begin to turn red. He lays Duan Ling flat on the grass, his strong shoulders and chest exposed before him.
Their eyes meet for a brief moment. Wu Du leans over him, and Duan Ling murmurs, “Don’t leave me …”
Wu Du replies, “I’ll protect you.”
He covers Duan Ling with himself completely, blocking the wind from the mountains blowing their way; they hold each other in a tight embrace, limbs intertwining, but Wu Du never stops the thrusting of his hips as he pounds into Duan Ling’s body. They’re pressed tightly together, from lips to tongue to chest to abdomen, their arms holding onto each other. It’s the most complete skin-to-skin contact they’ve ever had.
That same brilliant river of stars remains in Duan Ling’s eyes, and steadily, everything in the wilderness grows quiet, and Wu Du comes inside of him, explosive, heated and wet. They stare at each other, breathing hard for long moments, and Duan Ling caresses Wu Du’s profile, kissing him on the cheek.
It’s ages before Wu Du lets go of Duan Ling to put on his undershirt. By then, his back is already soaked through with sweat. He holds onto Duan Ling and helps him put on his clothes. Still messy and dishevelled, Duan Ling just stares at Wu Du breathlessly and wraps his arms around him as though he hasn’t had enough, pressing his lips to his.
After their bout of tempestuous lovemaking, Wu Du still doesn’t want to let go of Duan Ling. With his robe casually piled around his waist, they hold onto each other as they whisper sweet nothings beneath the shade of a tree.
“My whole life,” Wu Du whispers, “the one thing I regret the most is not having visited Runan back in the day, and choosing to go to Jiangzhou instead. If I’d gone to Runan then I would have had a chance to see the kids in the city there, and try to figure out which one was you.”
Duan Ling laughs. “Even if you came to Runan you may not have run into me either. And maybe you would have glanced at me briefly before we passed each other by.”
Duan Ling was always dirty when he was little, spending his days with a bunch of beggars, his hair messy and with dirt on his face, in clothes that barely covered him. He only looks like this now.
“My master’s wife said … That every person is destined to meet the people they’re meant to meet, and it’s settled the moment they’re born. If I’d gone to Runan, then perhaps I would have stood outside the Duan estate, and saw you running in, running out.”
Leaning against Wu Du’s bare chest, Duan Ling replies with a smile, “Then you must remember to buy me a bowl of wontons.”
“I’ll take you there for some now. To Runan? Let’s go.”
Duan Ling stares at him silently.
It’s not like Duan Ling hasn’t thought about revisiting his old home, yet the whole way here, all he’d thought about was tree-cutting, wondering whether things would go smoothly. Now that the whole matter is basically resolved, of course, he won’t have to wield an axe himself anymore. When Wu Du tells him that, he suddenly feels like going back to the Duan estate for a look.
He wonders if Madam Duan and those maids would still dare to hit him and hell at him when they see that he’s come back. He has Wu Du behind him now, so he doesn’t have to be afraid of anyone anymore.
But what actually left him the deepest impression in memories carved deep, is the warmth Lang Junxia had given him amidst swirling snow, and a bowl of wontons eaten in a dark alleyway lit by a flickering lantern.
If he goes home with Wu Du while keeping another person in his heart, it would be unfair to him.
“Let’s go next time.” Duan Ling says, his mind wandering, “There are some things … That I haven’t yet let go of.”
But Wu Du doesn’t answer him, and he picks up Duan Ling sideways. Duan Ling says hurriedly, “I didn’t say yes yet!’
Wu Du helps Duan Ling onto Benxiao’s back, puts on his coat, and shakes out the fabric with a shrug of his shoulders before he mounts the horse himself. Brooking no argument, he steers Benxiao down the mountain path.
So Duan Ling doesn’t try to protest anymore and curls up in Wu Du’s embrace. He can sense that Wu Du knows what he’s thinking about — he wants to help him work through this. He remembers that when Lang Junxia left Runan with him in his arms eight years ago, he had taken this very same path.
It was a winter night, snow swirling all around them, and the mountain ranges to either side of them had seemed like an ink-brush painting.
But right now, the autumn breezes are blowing towards them, and the stars had just risen in the night, adorning the firmament; starlight glimmers through the wilderness and wind pats down the grass, bending each leaf. Wu Du’s robes flutter in the breeze as he urges their horse onto the highway with Duan Ling in his arms. In the wild winds, he’s bold and full of mettle as they head towards the distant, darkness-enshrouded Runan.
Duan Ling leans against Wu Du’s warm chest, and gradually falls asleep. He’s come back again; one journey away, one journey returning, and all those complicated, hair-raising events of the mortal world are nothing more than a dream.
The man on horseback feels as though he’s always been there; he will walk with Duan Ling ‘til the end of time, 'til springtime, when the weather grows warm and the flowers begin to bloom.
Benxiao’s hooves slow to a stop. Duan Ling is awake.
“Are we there?” Duan Ling asks groggily.
Wu Du doesn’t say anything. He’s looking up at the city walls.
They have stopped outside the city gates at about an hour past midnight, and up above, the same characters remain as always, now dilapidated and almost unreadable — Runan. The gates to the city nearby is only half closed and rotting away. The walls are covered in scorch marks.
“Should we go inside?” Wu Du is rather surprised as well — he didn’t expect that Runan would be uninhabited by now.
“Let’s go in and have a look,” Duan Ling says.
Wu Du is extremely regretful — he should never have brought up this spur of the moment idea. From the looks of things, Runan has already become a deserted city, and all the commoners have relocated.
“Go from the eastern side of the city,” Duan Ling’s head clears, and he takes the reins from Wu Du. With a shake of them, he says, “I know the way.”
Even though he was only eight when he left, in his dreams Duan Ling has revisited this childhood home that left such a deep impression on him countless times. He steers Benxiao around the city wall.
“Let’s just head back,” Wu Du says, “we can come back some other time.”
Duan Ling says, “Tomorrow, we’ll go pay our respects to my mother together.”
Come to think of it, they should, Wu Du thinks. In regards to Duan Xiaowan, Cai Yan’s lips have been sealed since his return to court, and he’s never asked for Duan Ling’s parents to be interred together either. Perhaps he had mentioned it and they just didn’t know, but no one has come to Runan to relocate her grave. After all, this is Khitan territory. Crossing the border is an extremely sensitive issue.
If Duan Ling can ascend to the throne without problems in the future, he will inter his parents together. When Li Jianhong was in Shangjing he also once mentioned that when he returned to the south, he would certainly go find Duan Ling’s mother.
They don’t go far before they find a section of the wall that had collapsed in on itself. Duan Ling steers Benxiao into the city, right over the broken tiles and stones, and once they’ve turned their way into the city, he looks around.
There’s quite a lot of damage to the houses as though the enemy had set them on fire. Autumn winds blow through the main street. It’s all deserted. There’s not a single lamp lit in any of the residences. The city is shrouded in darkness; no one lives here anymore.
Present Runan has already become a ghost town, not even livened by the sound of dogs barking. The river’s shore though is the same as always with its row of planted willow trees. In the quiet of the night, the river burbles on.
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The last of the autumn flooding course through their territory as it winds its way northeast past Ye, passing a series of dangerous rapids, pouring endlessly downstream.
“We’ll have to dig a ditch right here for irrigation next spring,” Duan Ling says.
“Yeah.” Wu Du stares off at the distant shore. There are too many things that he needs to do. Whenever something requires physical strength, he’s the only one who could do it.
Every once in a while he’d check the surrounding terrain; the mountains to each side of them have formed a deep ravine here, and the Xunshui would rise sharply every year at the beginning of summer. Once the Ninth Month passes, the waterline would gradually subside again. In the central northern region of Hebei, the Xunshui flows from the northeast towards the southwest, where it turns north of Ye towards the east, heading to the sea via Shandong.
“Then when the logs float downstream,” Wu Du says, “they’ll end up resting here. You’ve thought of everything.”
Four hundred people holding the reins of their horses ford the river carefully through this narrow pathway.
“Everyone, be careful,” Wu Du passes down an order, “we’re already in Liao territory.”
The opposing shore is almost deserted; the whole place had been plundered by the Mongols. Even though this was once Han soil, now there’s nothing but a bleak wasteland.
Hills and valleys litter the terrain, and nobody is keeping the highway clear anymore so the weeds have almost grown their way into the middle of the road. Originally, Wu Du was planning to rest during the day and march throughout the night so as not to alert the Khitans, but now that plan has turned out to be completely unnecessary — because there’s no one in the Xunbei region, to begin with.
They walk for an entire day and run into nothing but ruins of abandoned villages and weeds grown as tall as men. The Mongols had set fires to their homeland, but grasses and trees have stubbornly grown out of its ruins, covering up all the sorrow that once existed in this world.
They advance at an exceedingly slow pace. As they proceed, Duan Ling is also surveying the terrain, drawing a map all the while. They may have to do battle here in the future, and this is all extremely precious information.
One day later, they enter the Mount Mang region. Go west, and they’ll reach Xunyang; walk north, and they’ll get to Shangzi.
All along the way are wild beasts and birds, as there are many wild animals out hunting in autumn, so they can hunt game for food everywhere they go. Compared to Ye and Hejian, where there’s nothing but miles and miles of a barren wasteland, Xunbei is indeed fertile ground fit for settling on, but unfortunately, it has become completely deserted.
“We’re here,” Duan Ling says, “The Valley of Heishan is right ahead of us.”
Several rivers pass through the Valley of Heishan, tributaries gathering together before flowing south.
“Let’s begin,” Wu Du says, “everyone, start cutting trees down!”
Most trees in the Valley of Heishan are pine, but there are also firs and quite a few ginkgos. At the arrival of autumn, layers of golden yellows and deep greens seem to dye the entire mountain in their colours, while wide stretches of rocks cut through the scenery in black, hence how the Valley of “black mountain” got its name.
Wu Du finishes assigning patrols, while soldiers untie their lumber axes from their belts and take out a saw blade. Duan Ling had received a blueprint from Yan Di, and now he asks the soldiers to chop down one tree first, with which they would build a simple machine pushed by water, and on it, they’ll install a saw blade. This process takes them all day.
The water-powered sawblade is ready to use by dusk. They then toss the trees they’d chopped down into the stream where the water turns them, shave off the extra branches, turn them into wooden pillars, and push them aside. Once enough have accumulated, the entire batch is thrown into the river where it’s guided by some of their people downstream.
Duan Ling is working hard enough to get blisters on his hands. Wu Du tries to stop him, but Duan Ling tells him there’s no need to worry. He can do this.
“You’re not familiar with this sort of thing.” Duan Ling has been reading the diagrammed reports from Yan Di every single day. He puts on a pair of gloves, twists the wooden tenon into place, and says to Wu Du, “Just leave it to me.”
At nightfall, the soldiers leave their work behind to get some rest. Wu Du makes the rounds, and bonfires are lit up in the valley, filling the area with star-like points of light. They end up processing three pine trees within one day, and that’s including building a water wheel and time spent investigating the area when they first got here, so that’s already rather quick. If they keep going like this, starting from tomorrow they can chop down fifteen trees in a day at least. Within a month they’ll have cut down enough firewood for winter.
After dinner, Duan Ling is so tired that he feels sore all over, and he lies down in the wilderness with Wu Du to stargaze.
“Your mother was from Hebei?” Wu Du ask.
“Yeah,” Duan Ling turns to his side, studying Wu Du’s features. “Milord, where you from?”
Their faces are leaning close to each other’s, and Duan Ling reaches out to touch Wu Du’s nose, his eyebrows, his nose. Wu Du starts to laugh, and he grabs Duan Ling’s hand, gripping it between his fingers.
“What part of the country does it look like your lord is from?” Wu Du asks.
“You look Tangut,” Duan Ling says, deadpan.
Wu Du seems taken aback for a moment.
“Because my dad used to say that Tangut men look proper, with symmetrical features.” Duan Ling says smilingly, “And, Tangut men go around acting like dogs in heat all the time.”
Wu Du manages to catch that the last half of Duan Ling’s sentence was to make fun of him and immediately flips them over, putting his weight on top of him. “You’re right. Looks like I really am Tangut …”
Duan Ling begs for mercy at once; he’s worked all day, his entire body is sore, and he doesn’t have the energy for this madness at all. With Wu Du’s weight pressing down on him he just keeps screeching. But Wu Du presses his nose up against his and kisses him.
“What part of me looks Tangut? Tell me,” Wu Du leans in close to Duan Ling’s ear to whisper.
Duan Ling’s fingers glide over Wu Du’s rugged and distinct features, whispering, “here … and here …”
He reaches down, untying Wu Du’s belt, revealing the clean, snow-white underclothes he wears beneath. His copper-coloured chest is brimming with power, like a Tangut hunter who spends all his time on the back of a ferocious horse. His abs are hard and well-defined, like that of a horseman galloping on the grassland.
“And … here.” Duan Ling can feel Wu Du’s cock pushing against his lower abdomen, already hard, and he reaches down to his pants to wrap his fingers around that massive, erect thing.
Wu Du’s cock is thick, long, and beautiful, suffused with male power like the hilt of a longsword. Duan Ling wraps a hand around it, his thumb drawing light circles over the glans. “And … here too.”
“You touched that Tangut kid down there?” Wu Du says with a hint of jealousy.
Duan Ling starts to laugh. “Sure I have. When we were little and still in school, we bathed together.”
He did bathe with Batu and Helian Bo, but back then they were all half-grown kids. He’s never felt one like Wu Du’s, filled with the aggression of an adult male.
“Whose is bigger?” Wu Du lightly raises an eyebrow.
“Of course, yours is bigger,” Duan Ling says sincerely.
And it’s true; out of all that he’s touched and seen, Wu Du has the biggest one out of all of them. But of course, he can’t rule out the fact that they were all kids back then. By now, Wu Du has already taken things one step further by untying the string to his pants and taking off his robe. Completely naked, he leans back and straightens his spine. Duan Ling is half sitting up, and he finds it visually all too stunning, really; Wu Du’s strong, muscular body is radiating with the sensual attraction of an adult man, making all the blood rush to his head, suffusing his cheeks with a blush, sending heat through the shells of his ears.
“Want to taste it?” Wu Du holds his cock by the base of the shaft and brings it near Duan Ling’s mouth. Breathing rapidly, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment, Duan Ling runs his tongue over the glans and then tries his hardest to pull it into his mouth.
Wu Du moves a little bit, and Duan Ling is stuffed all full of him, making a muffled sound in his throat. They’re both breathing harder, breath growing short, and soon Wu Du sits down and pats his thigh, showing Duan Ling that he should sit down and lay his head on his thigh.
Duan Ling puts his head down on Wu Du’s thigh, and as he sucks on Wu Du’s cock, he reaches up to toy with his already hard nipple. Gasping, Wu Du slides his big hand under Duan Ling’s clothes and strips him completely naked.
A mountain breeze brushes by, and Duan Ling can’t help but feel a bit shivery. Yet deep inside his heart Wu Du has so tantalised him that he feels scalding hot, as though he’s on fire. Wu Du wraps his arms around him and picks him up, smiling. “Didn’t you say you were tired?”
Duan Ling hums, agreeing, and with his arms around Wu Du’s shoulders, he sits up, straddling Wu Du’s waist. They’re both entirely naked now, sitting on a pile of scattered clothing, skin to skin and holding each other close. Wu Du’s fingers caress his spine, and he breathes in deep to take in the fresh, clean scent clinging to Duan Ling’s skin. Duan Ling, meanwhile, turns his head slightly to catch Wu Du’s lips.
“I want you,” Duan Ling whispers.
“Let me do the work. Just enjoy yourself,” Wu Du too, whispers back at him.
His cock is already scorching hot and hard as a cudgel, slowly invading Duan Ling between his thighs as it enters his body. It’s already wet and slippery, and as he glides in Duan Ling shudders, his hands gripping tight over Wu Du’s powerful shoulders, tears almost seeping from the corners of his eyes.
Wu Du only pushes himself in a little before he pauses, waiting for Duan Ling to adjust to him. Duan Ling keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the feeling of Wu Du’s cock entering his body. After a brief pause, Wu Du continues to push deeper inside him; this time, the entire hard shaft slowly penetrates Duan Ling’s body, giving him an exhilarating sense of being filled to the brim.
He opens his eyes to find Wu Du’s staring back at him, his gaze full of love.
Wu Du makes a swallowing motion with his mouth and throat and starts to smile with a smile that’s roguish and sly.
“Don’t all Tangut have dicks like a donkey’s?” Wu Du says with a laugh.
“I … I have no idea.” Duan Ling gasps, rubbing his temple against Wu Du’s cheek as he begs for mercy. “But yours really is too big. Not so hard.”
Wu Du only moves a little bit before Duan Ling starts to moan; this moaning sets of Wu Du’s wild base desires all at once, but alas, worried that it would hurt Duan Ling, he can only thrust into him slowly, one sliding stroke at a time.
Duan Ling straightens his spine so Wu Du can push deeper inside of him, but Wu Du instead mistakes this for his getting cold from the wind. He whispers, “Are you cold?”
“No …” Duan Ling is lost in the sensations, and almost all of his attention is settled on the huge thing intruding his body as that hardness gently probe the deepest part of him.
“Ah!” As it rubs against that most sensitive place inside of him, Duan Ling can’t help crying out.
The forest rustles as the wind caresses the leaves; the sky above, the earth beneath them, nature and the fresh scent of vibrantly living things make him tremble. Like the wind that sends a wave through the tops of the pine trees, Wu Du’s skilful thrusting sends pleasure coursing through his whole body like an incoming tide.
“I love you so much.” Wu Du’s voice says quietly by Duan Ling’s ear, sounding breathless, and he turns to kiss him ferociously, so hard that Duan Ling’s lips go soft and begin to turn red. He lays Duan Ling flat on the grass, his strong shoulders and chest exposed before him.
Their eyes meet for a brief moment. Wu Du leans over him, and Duan Ling murmurs, “Don’t leave me …”
Wu Du replies, “I’ll protect you.”
He covers Duan Ling with himself completely, blocking the wind from the mountains blowing their way; they hold each other in a tight embrace, limbs intertwining, but Wu Du never stops the thrusting of his hips as he pounds into Duan Ling’s body. They’re pressed tightly together, from lips to tongue to chest to abdomen, their arms holding onto each other. It’s the most complete skin-to-skin contact they’ve ever had.
That same brilliant river of stars remains in Duan Ling’s eyes, and steadily, everything in the wilderness grows quiet, and Wu Du comes inside of him, explosive, heated and wet. They stare at each other, breathing hard for long moments, and Duan Ling caresses Wu Du’s profile, kissing him on the cheek.
It’s ages before Wu Du lets go of Duan Ling to put on his undershirt. By then, his back is already soaked through with sweat. He holds onto Duan Ling and helps him put on his clothes. Still messy and dishevelled, Duan Ling just stares at Wu Du breathlessly and wraps his arms around him as though he hasn’t had enough, pressing his lips to his.
After their bout of tempestuous lovemaking, Wu Du still doesn’t want to let go of Duan Ling. With his robe casually piled around his waist, they hold onto each other as they whisper sweet nothings beneath the shade of a tree.
“My whole life,” Wu Du whispers, “the one thing I regret the most is not having visited Runan back in the day, and choosing to go to Jiangzhou instead. If I’d gone to Runan then I would have had a chance to see the kids in the city there, and try to figure out which one was you.”
Duan Ling laughs. “Even if you came to Runan you may not have run into me either. And maybe you would have glanced at me briefly before we passed each other by.”
Duan Ling was always dirty when he was little, spending his days with a bunch of beggars, his hair messy and with dirt on his face, in clothes that barely covered him. He only looks like this now.
“My master’s wife said … That every person is destined to meet the people they’re meant to meet, and it’s settled the moment they’re born. If I’d gone to Runan, then perhaps I would have stood outside the Duan estate, and saw you running in, running out.”
Leaning against Wu Du’s bare chest, Duan Ling replies with a smile, “Then you must remember to buy me a bowl of wontons.”
“I’ll take you there for some now. To Runan? Let’s go.”
Duan Ling stares at him silently.
It’s not like Duan Ling hasn’t thought about revisiting his old home, yet the whole way here, all he’d thought about was tree-cutting, wondering whether things would go smoothly. Now that the whole matter is basically resolved, of course, he won’t have to wield an axe himself anymore. When Wu Du tells him that, he suddenly feels like going back to the Duan estate for a look.
He wonders if Madam Duan and those maids would still dare to hit him and hell at him when they see that he’s come back. He has Wu Du behind him now, so he doesn’t have to be afraid of anyone anymore.
But what actually left him the deepest impression in memories carved deep, is the warmth Lang Junxia had given him amidst swirling snow, and a bowl of wontons eaten in a dark alleyway lit by a flickering lantern.
If he goes home with Wu Du while keeping another person in his heart, it would be unfair to him.
“Let’s go next time.” Duan Ling says, his mind wandering, “There are some things … That I haven’t yet let go of.”
But Wu Du doesn’t answer him, and he picks up Duan Ling sideways. Duan Ling says hurriedly, “I didn’t say yes yet!’
Wu Du helps Duan Ling onto Benxiao’s back, puts on his coat, and shakes out the fabric with a shrug of his shoulders before he mounts the horse himself. Brooking no argument, he steers Benxiao down the mountain path.
So Duan Ling doesn’t try to protest anymore and curls up in Wu Du’s embrace. He can sense that Wu Du knows what he’s thinking about — he wants to help him work through this. He remembers that when Lang Junxia left Runan with him in his arms eight years ago, he had taken this very same path.
It was a winter night, snow swirling all around them, and the mountain ranges to either side of them had seemed like an ink-brush painting.
But right now, the autumn breezes are blowing towards them, and the stars had just risen in the night, adorning the firmament; starlight glimmers through the wilderness and wind pats down the grass, bending each leaf. Wu Du’s robes flutter in the breeze as he urges their horse onto the highway with Duan Ling in his arms. In the wild winds, he’s bold and full of mettle as they head towards the distant, darkness-enshrouded Runan.
Duan Ling leans against Wu Du’s warm chest, and gradually falls asleep. He’s come back again; one journey away, one journey returning, and all those complicated, hair-raising events of the mortal world are nothing more than a dream.
The man on horseback feels as though he’s always been there; he will walk with Duan Ling ‘til the end of time, 'til springtime, when the weather grows warm and the flowers begin to bloom.
Benxiao’s hooves slow to a stop. Duan Ling is awake.
“Are we there?” Duan Ling asks groggily.
Wu Du doesn’t say anything. He’s looking up at the city walls.
They have stopped outside the city gates at about an hour past midnight, and up above, the same characters remain as always, now dilapidated and almost unreadable — Runan. The gates to the city nearby is only half closed and rotting away. The walls are covered in scorch marks.
“Should we go inside?” Wu Du is rather surprised as well — he didn’t expect that Runan would be uninhabited by now.
“Let’s go in and have a look,” Duan Ling says.
Wu Du is extremely regretful — he should never have brought up this spur of the moment idea. From the looks of things, Runan has already become a deserted city, and all the commoners have relocated.
“Go from the eastern side of the city,” Duan Ling’s head clears, and he takes the reins from Wu Du. With a shake of them, he says, “I know the way.”
Even though he was only eight when he left, in his dreams Duan Ling has revisited this childhood home that left such a deep impression on him countless times. He steers Benxiao around the city wall.
“Let’s just head back,” Wu Du says, “we can come back some other time.”
Duan Ling says, “Tomorrow, we’ll go pay our respects to my mother together.”
Come to think of it, they should, Wu Du thinks. In regards to Duan Xiaowan, Cai Yan’s lips have been sealed since his return to court, and he’s never asked for Duan Ling’s parents to be interred together either. Perhaps he had mentioned it and they just didn’t know, but no one has come to Runan to relocate her grave. After all, this is Khitan territory. Crossing the border is an extremely sensitive issue.
If Duan Ling can ascend to the throne without problems in the future, he will inter his parents together. When Li Jianhong was in Shangjing he also once mentioned that when he returned to the south, he would certainly go find Duan Ling’s mother.
They don’t go far before they find a section of the wall that had collapsed in on itself. Duan Ling steers Benxiao into the city, right over the broken tiles and stones, and once they’ve turned their way into the city, he looks around.
There’s quite a lot of damage to the houses as though the enemy had set them on fire. Autumn winds blow through the main street. It’s all deserted. There’s not a single lamp lit in any of the residences. The city is shrouded in darkness; no one lives here anymore.
Present Runan has already become a ghost town, not even livened by the sound of dogs barking. The river’s shore though is the same as always with its row of planted willow trees. In the quiet of the night, the river burbles on.
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