Hot flashes

Xiao Jue put down his book, walked to the table, and examined the "work" for a while before commenting, "It's very...unique."

Zhou Heng, enraged and humiliated, retorted, "Come on, if you dare!"

Xiao Jue didn't say anything, but simply rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and picked up the spare bamboo strips.

His fingers were long and strong, yet his movements were exceptionally dexterous. He shaved, bent, and bound the bamboo strips with fluid, graceful movements, and in no time he had created a symmetrical and delicate swallow-shaped skeleton.

Zhou Heng was dumbfounded.

"The paper should be stretched like this." Xiao Jue placed the cut Xuan paper on the frame and smoothed it out little by little with diluted glue. "Don't rush, wait until it's half dry before trimming the edges."

He was focused as he did these things, and his profile looked particularly serene in the candlelight.

Zhou Heng leaned over the table and looked at it.

"How...how do you know this?" Zhou Heng couldn't help but ask.

Xiao Jue continued working with his hands: "My older brother taught me this when I was little."

Zhou Heng's heart tightened.

"My brother is very skillful." Xiao Jue's voice was calm, as if he were talking about someone else. "He can make kites, bamboo dragonflies, and even a small wooden horse that can walk. I always pester him to teach me, but I can't do it as well as he can."

As he spoke, he turned the finished kite over and began to outline the patterns with a fine brush. Dipping the brush tip in cinnabar, he drew smooth feather patterns on the plain white paper.

Zhou Heng looked at the swallow that was gradually taking shape, and his throat tightened a little.

Xiao Jue seemed to know what he was thinking. After finishing the last stroke, he put down his brush and said calmly, "It's all in the past."

The kite is finished. It is a hundred times more exquisite than Zhou Heng's "unique" work. The swallow's body is light and graceful, its tail wings are outstretched, and the feathers painted with vermilion are lifelike.

"Let's fly the kite in the back garden when the weather clears up." Xiao Jue handed the kite to Zhou Heng.

Zhou Heng took it, held it carefully, and nodded.

The rain outside the window gradually subsided, and darkness fell. The maids quietly withdrew, and Chang'an came in to light the lamps before silently leaving again.

In the flickering candlelight, Zhou Heng, holding the paper kite, suddenly whispered, "Thank you."

Xiao Jue was washing his hands when he heard this and looked up at him.

"Thank you for spending time with me today." Zhou Heng looked down and touched the smooth surface of the kite. "I know you're actually very busy."

Xiao Jue dried his hands, walked over, and reached out to ruffle his hair: "Nonsense."

The rain stopped completely at night. Moonlight shone through the gaps in the clouds, and the undried water droplets on the windowpane twinkled like tiny stars.

Zhou Heng woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. He had a dream in which the kite flew very high, but the string suddenly broke, and the kite spun and fell into the darkness.

His heart was pounding, and he instinctively moved closer to the person next to him.

Xiao Jue immediately woke up and wrapped his arm around her: "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing..." Zhou Heng buried his face in his shoulder, took a deep breath, and said, "I had a dream."

Xiao Jue didn't ask about the dream's content, but simply hugged him tighter and gently patted his back.

The air was so crisp and clear after the rain that it felt like you could wring water out of it.

When Zhou Heng woke up, Xiao Jue was no longer beside him. He hugged the blanket and stared blankly for a while before slowly getting up.

Besides the usual breakfast, there was a small dish of amber-colored things on the table—osmanthus honey—with a note next to it: "You can fly kites when the weather is clear. Come home early."

The handwriting remained strong and vigorous, yet Zhou Heng inexplicably detected a hint of gentleness within those words. He scooped up a spoonful of honey and put it in his mouth; the sweetness melted on his tongue, and his mood lifted accordingly.

He was restless all morning, taking out the kite to examine it from all angles, and then running to the yard to look up at the sky. The autumn air was crisp and clear, with wisps of thin clouds drifting across the azure sky—perfect weather for flying a kite.

But Xiao Jue still hadn't returned by lunchtime.

When Chang An came to serve the dishes, Zhou Heng couldn't help but ask, "Is Your Highness very busy today?"

"Reporting to Young Master, His Highness went to the camp outside the city early this morning, and in the afternoon he summoned several generals and Mr. Shen to discuss matters." Chang An placed a plate of stir-fried lotus root slices in front of him. "His Highness instructed that if you are bored while waiting, you may go for a stroll in the back garden. He will definitely be back before Shenshi (3-5 PM)."

Zhou Heng said "Oh," and poked at the rice in his bowl. It would be a lie to say he wasn't disappointed, but he also understood that Xiao Jue, now in charge of a region, couldn't possibly spend all his time playing these trivial games with him.

After a quick meal, Zhou Heng took his kite to the back garden. The garden was large, with a pond fed by flowing water and a wide meadow beside it. With a gentle autumn breeze, it was indeed a good place to fly a kite.

He tried to fly it alone, but the kite seemed to be deliberately working against him, either plunging downwards or spinning wildly. After struggling for almost half an hour, he was covered in sweat, but the kite still hadn't managed to take off even once.

"Broken kite!" Zhou Heng was annoyed. He threw the spool on the ground and sat down on the grass to sulk.

"Is the kite broken, or is the person stupid?"

A familiar voice came from behind. Zhou Heng turned around abruptly and saw Xiao Jue standing under the willow tree by the pond, dressed in black casual clothes, with his hands behind his back and a faint smile on his lips.

"When did you get back?" Zhou Heng got up and brushed the grass clippings off his body.

"Just got back." Xiao Jue walked over, picked up the spool of thread from the ground, and then took the kite to check it over again. "The frame isn't crooked, and the paper isn't torn, so why can't it fly?"

"How should I know!" Zhou Heng muttered, "It just won't listen."

Xiao Jue glanced at him, said nothing, and simply handed him the spool: "Take it."

Zhou Heng took it. Xiao Jue took the kite and walked to the upwind side, let out more than ten feet of string, and then gently pushed it upwards—the kite seemed to suddenly come to life, rising steadily with the help of the wind.

Xiao Jue took a few steps back, letting out the line while fine-tuning the angle. The kite soared higher and higher, spreading its crimson wings in the blue sky.

"Here you go." Xiao Jue took the spool back and gestured for Zhou Heng to hold it.

Zhou Heng quickly caught it. The spool vibrated gently in his hand, as if he could feel the wind coming from high above.

He looked up at the swallow soaring higher and higher, his eyes sparkling: "It's flying so high!"

"Hmm." Xiao Jue stood half a step behind him, his gaze also fixed on the sky. "Hold the line like this, with the tension just right. Let it loosen a little when the wind is strong, and tighten it a little when the wind is weak."

As he spoke, he reached out and placed his hand on the back of Zhou Heng's hand, gently adjusting the angle. His palm was warm, and his fingers were long and strong.

"Focus." Xiao Jue's voice rang in my ears, deep and steady. "Watch the kite, not your hands."

Zhou Heng quickly looked up. The kite soared in the autumn wind, sometimes steady, sometimes gently swaying with the air currents. He gradually got the rhythm right, and his hand movements became more fluid.

The two stood side by side, neither speaking. Only the rustling of the autumn wind through the grass and the occasional chirping of birds in the distance could be heard.

After an unknown amount of time, Xiao Jue suddenly spoke up: "During today's meeting, Mr. Shen mentioned something."

"Hmm?" Zhou Heng's attention was still on the kite.

"The Southern Capital sent an envoy," Xiao Jue said calmly. "He said he was there to 'pacify' the country, and he brought the young emperor's decree, bestowing upon me the title of 'Duke of Zhenguo,' granting me the Nine Bestowments, and allowing me to inherit the title in perpetuity and forever guard the northern border."

Zhou Heng's heart tightened, and he lost control of his grip, causing the kite to plummet. He quickly reeled in the string: "You... you agreed?"

"The imperial decree is still on its way; the messenger will arrive in Linchuan in three days." Xiao Jue released his grip, walked to a stone bench, and sat down. "Mr. Shen's suggestion is that we might as well play along and see what kind of price Nandu can offer."

Zhou Heng secured the kite string to a rock, then walked over and sat down. "And what about you? What do you think?"

Xiao Jue looked at him and asked, "Do you think I should agree?"

Zhou Heng was stumped. He opened his mouth, wanting to say "Of course not," but swallowed the words back.

Although he had been confined to the Prince's mansion these days, he had overheard Chang'an and the maids talking about the situation outside.

Although Xiao Jue had won one battle after another, the repeated campaigns had taken a heavy toll, and the army needed to rest and recuperate in the newly conquered territories.

Although the Southern Capital court is corrupt, it still holds half of the country. If they really fight to the death, the outcome is still uncertain.

"I..." Zhou Heng carefully chose his words, "I think that the Southern Capital's offer of rewards at this time is definitely not well-intentioned. Either they want to keep you in check and buy you time, or it's a divisive tactic to alienate you from your generals who are determined to fight to the end."

A hint of surprise flashed in Xiao Jue's eyes, which quickly turned into appreciation: "Continue."

Encouraged, Zhou Heng became bolder: "Besides, the title 'Duke of Zhenguo' sounds prestigious, but in the end, he is still a subject. You are already the Prince of Jingbei. Accepting a title from Nandu would be lowering your status, wouldn't it?"

What will those soldiers who fought their way out of the north think? They'll think you've forgotten General Xiao's grudge and are about to bow down to the court.

He spoke with such emotion that his face flushed slightly. Xiao Jue listened quietly, and only after he stopped did he slowly say, "Mr. Shen has also considered these things."

Zhou Heng was taken aback.

"But Mr. Shen also said," Xiao Jue continued, "that although we have won, we are at our last gasp."

The three prefectures south of the Yangtze River have just been annexed, and the people's hearts are not yet settled; the army's provisions are only enough to last for three months; and from the Qiang and Hu tribes in the north, scouts report that several large tribes are showing signs of uniting to move south.

With each word he spoke, Zhou Heng's heart sank a little deeper. He was completely unaware of any of this.

"Therefore, Mr. Shen believes," Xiao Jue's voice remained calm and emotionless, "that it might be wise to accept the imperial decree first, feign compliance, and gain a respite. When the time is right, then..."

He didn't finish speaking, but Zhou Heng understood.

"You..." Zhou Heng looked at him, suddenly feeling a dryness in his throat, "You think so too?"

Xiao Jue did not answer immediately. He raised his hand and gently tucked a strand of hair that had been ruffled by the wind behind Zhou Heng's ear, his movements gentle, but his eyes were unfathomable.

"Aheng," he called him for the first time, "on this road, there is never a turning back. It's either reach the summit or be shattered to pieces."

The kite was still flying in the sky when suddenly the string came loose—sometime during the day, the stone that held the string in place had been blown over by the wind. Losing its tether, the kite began to dance wildly in the wind, finally spinning and drifting towards the distant bushes.

Zhou Heng exclaimed "Ah!" and got up to chase after him, but was stopped by Xiao Jue.

"Let it be," Xiao Jue said. "Send the servants to look for it tomorrow."

"But……"

"It's just a paper kite." Xiao Jue looked at him, his tone carrying a different meaning. "If you like, I'll make you another one."

Zhou Heng looked at the kite disappearing into the distance, then at Xiao Jue, and suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

As darkness fell, the two walked back side by side, their shadows stretching long behind them.

As they approached the dormitory, Xiao Jue suddenly stopped. "I have something to discuss with Mr. Shen tonight, so I'll be back later. You go to sleep first, don't wait for me."

Zhou Heng nodded, watching his back as he turned and headed towards the study, then suddenly called out to him, "Xiao Jue."

Xiao Jue turned around.

"Um..." Zhou Heng clenched the hem of his clothes, "Don't overwork yourself."

Xiao Jue was taken aback for a moment, then a very slight smile appeared on his lips: "I understand."