Chapter 135: Shizun Learns Sneakily

Yuliang Village was a tiny village, and most of its villagers were on the older side, with very few young people, so every year when it got to be the busy season in farming, they would ask the cultivators at Sisheng Peak for help.

Some request like this, that has absolutely nothing to do with cultivation,

would've gone totally ignored at any other sect, but Xue Zhengyong and his older brother had started Sisheng Peak from scratch, and had gone through their share of hardships when they were young—rumor had it that, growing up, they had to rely on charity to fill their stomach[15]. Thus, not only did he not have it in himself to refuse such requests from the old tenant farmers, he would take them very seriously, sending disciples to properly fulfill the requests each and every time.

The village wasn't exactly far from Sisheng Peak, but neither was it close, a middling distance that would be too inconvenient to walk and too pretentious to ride a carriage for.

So Xue Zhengyong had two good horses prepared for them. It was late autumn, the foliage were turning their fall colors, and when Chu Wanning came down the stairs to the main gate, the sight that greeted him was that of Mo Ran standing beneath a tall maple tree, its bright red, frost-adorned leaves rustling in the wind like the sheen of fine brocade, like the splashing of red carps.

Mo Ran had the reins of a black horse in hand while a white horse nuzzled his cheek, and was in the middle of teasing them with a tuft of alfalfa flowers when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. A few pieces of red leaves fluttered down just as he turned to look over his shoulder, beaming brightly up from between dancing leaves.

"Shizun." Chu Wanning's footsteps slowed, then came to a stop on the last couple of steps.

Sunlight filtered through the luxuriant leaves to fall on the moss-covered stone steps. He stared at the man standing there, not far away; maybe because they were setting off to do farm work, but Mo Ran wasn't wearing Sisheng Peak's disciple uniform today, nor was he wearing those white robes from when he first got back.

Instead, he had on a set of black raiments with wrapped wristguards, a simple getup that accentuated his slim waist, long legs, and broad shoulders. It was a good figure, especially around the torso area, where the open collar revealed a firm, toned chest the color of honey, rising and falling with each breath.

If Xue Meng's getup with the sparkling silver armor was showy like a peacock fanning its tail feathers, then this look of Mo Ran's was sultry, an innocent kind of sultry, an unmeaning kind of sultry—that was to say, it gave off an air of "I'm a decent, honest person, I've never teased or provoked in my life,

and the only thing I know is honest hard work."

"..." Chu Wanning looked him up and down several times before opening his mouth to say, "Mo Ran." "Hm? What is it, Shizun?" The strapping young man replied with a smile.

Chu Wanning's face was deadpan. "Aren't you cold, with your collars open that wide?"   After the initial surprise had passed, Mo Ran came to the conclusion that Shizun was expressing concern for himself and felt all giddy about it. He put the alfalfa back into the hay basket for the horses, dusted his hands off, and bounded up the bluestone steps to stand charmingly in front of Chu Wanning,

and then to proceeded to grab Chu Wanning by the wrist before he could even react.

"Not cold at all, I'm actually kinda hot right now from rushing about all morning." He grinned guilelessly as he pressed Chu Wanning's hand against his own chest. "See, Shizun?" It felt scalding.

The young man's chest was hot to the touch, and together with that strong heartbeat and that pair of star-bright eyes, Chu Wanning could feel his entire back going numb. He hurriedly ripped his hand away as his face sank.

"Indecent." "Ah...is it sweaty?" But Mo Ran misunderstood. As things stood, he thought that Chu Wanning wasn't into men—their entanglement in the past life had all been due to his own unreasonable coercion, after all—so he didn't think that Chu Wanning would have any interest in himself, thus Shizun must be annoyed at his sweatiness.

Remembering Chu Wanning's love of cleanliness and dislike of touching people, Mo Ran felt embarrassed, scratching his head as he said, "That was thoughtless of me…"   If he had looked closely, he would've seen the blush at the base of Chu Wanning's elegant neck, and the glimmer of affection beneath those coolly drooped lashes.

But he had missed that singular instant of opening, and Chu Wanning wasn't going to give him another. His snow white shoes walked down the slippery bluestone steps, headed directly for the black horse, mounting it in a single graceful motion that was smooth as flowing waters.

With the sunlight illuminating the land and red autumn leaves as far as the eye could see, the white-robed man sitting atop the large black horse glanced down over his shoulder at the disciple of his standing on the ground, his face like cool jade giving off an air of loftiness, ever the sharp and handsome Yuheng Elder.

"I'm off. Keep up." And with that, those long legs clamped about the horse and it set off in a gallop.

Mo Ran stood rooted to the ground in a daze for a while, then picked up the bamboo basket, still half-full with the alfalfa flowers he was in the middle of feeding the horses with, and tied it to the white horse's saddle before leaping up himself, caught between laughter and tears. "But Shizun, the black horse is mine, don't just… Shizun! Wait for me!" Galloping on swift horses, they arrived at Yuliang Village within the hour.

A few hectares of rice paddies[16] stretched out along the outside of the village, waves rolling through the fields of golden grain in the breeze. Some thirty-odd farmers were toiling away in the paddies. Due to the shortage of hands, everybody, young and old alike, were working the fields, backs bent low and trouser legs rolled up as they swung their sickles, large beads of sweat dripping off their faces with the exertion.

Mo Ran immediately went to find the village chief and hand him the letter,

then changed into a pair of hemp shoes and headed for the fields without further ado. He had plenty of strength and stamina both, and was a cultivator to boot, so something like reaping crops was nothing to him, and it only took him less than half the day to harvest two whole rows of rice.

With the golden ears of rice piling up on the side of the paddy fields, soaking up the sunlight, the sweet scent of grains wafted through the air. The rustling sound of the farmers' sickles could be heard throughout the plateaus, and sitting at the ridge between the paddy fields, a maiden leisurely sang a farming song as she gathered the grains.

"The sun setting behind a mountain shines like a red flower, painting all four mountains red oh~ red like peonies. A red fan to sing my love song, a hydrangea to ask my loverboy, I tug at loverboy's belt, just when are you coming? Today I have no time, tomorrow I have to chop firewood, the day after I can come over." The farmer girl casually sang these coy lyrics in that soft little tune, the words drifting in the air, landing in the listeners' hearts.

"Today—I have no time, tomorrow I have to chop firewood, the day after—I can come over." Chu Wanning did not go to work in the fields, sitting under a tree drinking from a jar of hot water instead. His eyes followed that black-clothed, hardworking silhouette in the distance as he listened to the song, his thoughts all over the place, so much so that the water he swallowed seemed to flow into his chest rather than his stomach, making it feel all hot.

"What an obscene song," he commented coldly when he finished the water,

then went to return the ceramic jar to the village chief.

The village chief stared at him with hesitation.

Chu Wanning asked irritably, "What is it?"   "...Is xianjun...not going to work the fields?" The old village chief was a straightforward kind of person, and answered the question he was asked in a shaky, wizened voice, white beard trembling and white brows creased. "Is xianjun...just here to oversee things?"   "..." Chu Wanning had never felt this put on the spot before in his life.

Work the fields...

Didn't Xue Zhengyong say he could just sit on the side and watch Mo Ran do all the work? Does he actually have to work too?

...But he didn't know how!!!

But the old village chief was staring at him like he still had more to say, and even the couple of little kids and old women nearby heard the exchange and looked up to stare at this immaculately dressed man.

Children hold nothing back, and a little kid with his hair in buns asked crisply, "Granny granny, this daozhang-gege is wearing all white, how is he going to do any work in the fields?" "His sleeves are so wide…" Another kid murmured.

"And his shoes are so clean…" Chu Wanning was on pins and needles with how awkward he felt. He stood there for a bit, but his thin face really couldn't keep lounging around after that, so he grabbed a sickle and waded into the paddy field without even taking his shoes off, the slippery, muddy swamp clinging to his feet immediately and the sitting water coming up past his ankles. Chu Wanning gingerly took two steps,

frowning at the slippery feeling, then tried swinging the sickle a couple of times,

but it was fumbling at best, as he knew nothing of the technique.

"...Pfft, this daozhang-gege sure is clumsy." A pair of little kids had seen his attempts from under the mulberry tree, laughing at him with their cheeks propped up in their hands.

Chu Wanning: "..." Face darkening and not wanting to be near these people for even a moment longer, Chu Wanning summoned all the poise he had in him to keep his handsome face straight and his pace calm and steady as he waded through the mud in great big strides toward the figure that was busily cutting rice in the distance.

He was going to go sneakily observe how Mo Ran was doing it.

The saying went that one could always learn from others; he was going to learn it sneakily.

When it came to farming, Mo Ran was clearly more skilled than Chu Wanning. He was bent over under the blazing sun, each swing of his sickle reaping clumps of golden rice that fell softly and obediently into his waiting embrace, which he held with one arm until he'd gathered a large armful before tossing into the bamboo basket behind him.

He was so absorbed in the task that he didn't even notice Chu Wanning's approach, eyelashes drooped gently down as he continued to work diligently, a vague shadow cast by his straight nose as a bead of sweat trickled down the side of his cheek. There was a feral kind of scent coming from his body,

scorching yet wild, muted yet fervent. Under the sunlight, his skin was like redhot steel, as if having just come out of the casting pool, still crackling with sparks and hissing with steam with how blindingly bright it seemed, how beautifully brilliant.

Standing a distance away but not too close, Chu Wanning appreciated the view for a while before abruptly realizing just what it was he was doing. He furrowed his brows, shook his head, and mumbled something, then continued wading forward with a straight face.

He was going to learn, sneakily!

He was here to see just how Mo Ran was holding the sickle and just what kind of angle he was swinging it at, to find out why the rice that was stiff as iron wires in his own hands were pliant as boneless maidens in Mo Ran's, falling so willingly and eagerly into his arms.

Chu Wanning was so focused on staring that he didn't even notice the frog by his foot until it leaped up with a loud "Ribbit!" and hopped off toward the ridge.

Caught by surprise, Chu Wanning hurriedly pulled his leg back, but the paddy field was too slippery and he was too unprepared, and so it was that the great Yuheng Elder tipped forward, on track for a direct faceplant into the muddy paddy field, all because of a single brazen frog!

Woosh!

With his face just about to meet the mud, Chu Wanning had no time to cast anything, and could only reflexively reach out to grab at the hard-working person in front.

The village maiden's singing sounded even more coy. "I tug at loverboy's belt ——just when are you coming——" As his luck would have it, Chu Wanning ended up grabbing onto Mo Ran's belt and stumbling forward a few steps, before falling against a broad chest that was hot to the touch and smelled of masculine musk and finding himself wrapped in a pair of strong, solid arms.

Author's Notes:

Wingwoman: I've already come online in this chapter, really.

Mo Ran: ...Erm...are you that frog?

Wingwoman: Goodbye.

T/N meatbun? Hewwo? Is this an abo? Be straight with us Is This An A/B/O,,,,,,

[15] 吃百家饭长大的 lit. they grew up eating "hundred-family meals". Sometimes when a child's parents are absent or unable to provide for them for whatever reason, they are fed/taken care of by members of the neighborhood/village or by relatives who are willing to help, so the child would stay with or visit a multitude of different families to have meals with them on given days or for certain periods at a time.

[16] Rice paddy visuals [1] [2] zoom enhance [3] [4]