9. hero saves beauty

The town center of Yanling bustled with mid-morning energy—carts rolled over cobbled streets, hawkers shouted their wares, and the scent of steamed buns and roasted chestnuts filled the air.

Li Siming and Li Siyuan walked side by side, their sleeves fluttering in the breeze. In Siming's arms was a bundle of pastries wrapped in oiled paper—sweet red bean buns, lotus cakes, and even a few rare hawthorn rolls.

"For Sitao and Sichen," Siming said with a small grin. "They'll act like it's the first real food they've ever tasted."

Siyuan, usually quiet, allowed a slight smirk. "You're the indulgent kind."

"Is it indulgent to feed a few hardworking brothers who haven't seen a bakery in months?"

"...Yes."

They were halfway through the market square when a sudden shout split the air.

"Someone fell in! — Into the river!"

"What happened?!"

"They pushed him!"

A loud splash had everyone craning their necks. The crowd surged toward the bridge where the small Yanling River ran beneath the road. Siming's brows furrowed.

"Come on."

They pushed through the crowd. At the edge of the bridge, people peered down and whispered, but no one moved.

Below, in the slow, murky current, a slim figure thrashed weakly. He had long black hair, his robe clinging to his frame. His movements were growing slower by the second—he was clearly struggling.

Siming scanned the crowd for town guards—none.

"I'll send one of the shadow guards," he muttered.

But Siyuan stepped forward, his hand lightly touching Siming's arm. "Don't."

"What?"

"We can't use them for public display," Siyuan said calmly. "Not for something like this."

Siming hesitated—then nodded.

And before another word could be exchanged, Siyuan stripped off his outer robe, kicked off his boots, and jumped into the river.

The water splashed high, gasps rose from the onlookers, and Siming sighed, watching his brother cut cleanly through the river.

Siyuan reached the drowning figure quickly. The boy—because he looked no older than sixteen or seventeen—had nearly gone under. Siyuan grabbed him by the waist, turned his face up, and began dragging him toward shore.

The boy was light. Far too light. Bones beneath soaked fabric. He didn't even resist, just coughed and choked as the water poured from his mouth.

When they reached the bank, Siyuan hauled him up and laid him down gently.

Siming arrived moments later, pastries forgotten, and knelt beside them.

"You alright?"

The boy blinked weakly, coughing water. His eyes were long-lashed and soft, the color of autumn leaves in twilight. Pale lips. Slender wrists. He was clearly a Brother—one of those rare males with the ability to bear life. In this era, a Brother was viewed as a delicate treasure… or a burden.

Before they could even check the boy's pulse, a shrill voice cut through the crowd.

"Scandal!"

All heads turned.

A young man in gaudy robes, with greased hair and a fake-looking gold clasp at his waist, pointed dramatically at Siyuan.

"You! You saved him! Now you must take responsibility!"

Siyuan stood up slowly, dripping wet, face blank.

Siming blinked. "What?"

"You've touched a Brother—held him close—publicly!" the man said with theatrical horror. "His reputation is ruined now! He can't marry anyone else! You must marry him!"

Siyuan's eyes turned ice cold.

"No."

The crowd gasped.

The man stammered. "W-What do you mean, 'no'? You touched him!"

Siyuan took a step forward, his voice smooth as winter rain. "I saved someone from drowning. I'm not marrying him for breathing."

The man faltered under his glare. Even soaked and silent, Siyuan had the kind of presence that silenced fools.

Siming glanced at the boy on the ground—still coughing quietly, but now sitting upright, eyes wide and frightened.

Siming turned to a fruit vendor beside him. "Who is he?"

The woman hesitated. "That's… Young Master Lu Yan. A Brother. Illegitimate child of Lu Chong, a wealthy merchant from the north street."

Siming frowned. "And the one yelling?"

The woman snorted. "Just one of Lu Chong's hangers-on. A relative of his fourth concubine, I think. Always hoping to climb ranks."

"And what happened?"

The woman lowered her voice. "The story's spreading fast—his eldest sister pushed him into the river. Some family dispute, apparently. She hates him for existing."

Siming closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. Of course.

He turned to his brother, who had pulled his robe back on, still dripping, jaw tight.

"Siyuan," he said quietly. "This… might be trouble."

"I know," Siyuan said.

Siming nodded once. "Whatever you choose to do, we'll handle it together."

Siyuan didn't reply. He just walked to the boy on the ground and knelt beside him.

Lu Yan stared at him with wide eyes.

"Can you walk?" Siyuan asked flatly.

The boy nodded.

"Then go home. And stay out of rivers."

Lu Yan looked down. "Thank you," he whispered.

Then he stood shakily and began to walk away, one hand pressed to his chest, robes dragging wetly behind him. The crowd parted silently.

Back in Wu'an Village, the mood was different.

Inside the old farmhouse, Li Sining sat under the veranda with a brush in hand, writing out a seed rotation plan. Beside him, the Shadow Guard Captain approached, a thin frown on his face.

"Fifth Highness," the Captain said, "a report just came from Yanling."

Sining looked up. "What happened?"

"Li Siming and Li Siyuan encountered a commotion. A Brother had fallen into the river. Siyuan jumped in to save him. A man—unknown—tried to force a marriage claim after. Publicly."

Sining blinked once. "Siyuan's alright?"

"Unharmed. But the boy was from the Lu family. There may be… consequences."

Sining tapped the tip of the brush against the table.

"…Let Siyuan decide what to do," he said after a pause. "He saved someone. What happens next is his choice. But tell the guards—if anyone touches him for this, they won't see tomorrow."

The Captain nodded. "Understood."

That night, back in town, Siming and Siyuan returned to the guard house near the old east gate. The guards bowed but said nothing, knowing better than to ask.

Siming handed out pastries quietly and sat beside his brother.

"You okay?"

Siyuan said nothing for a while, then, "…I don't like being touched. Even by gratitude."

"I know."

"But he didn't ask for it. That idiot cousin did."

"I know," Siming repeated. "That's why we'll handle whatever comes."

Siyuan finally relaxed.

He pulled out a red bean pastry and took a small bite.

Then, after a long pause, he said, "Don't tell the others yet."

Siming smiled. "Too late. Captain already told Sining."

Siyuan groaned and bit the pastry again, this time harder.

Far from the town, under the lantern glow of Wu'an village, Li Sining sat under the stars, arms folded, and shook his head.

"This family," he muttered, "can't go three days without finding a storm."

Still… he smiled faintly.