The Eldest Brother is Handsome but Sick. - Chapter 24

The Morning Run

The sky had just fully brightened, and a chill rode upon the wind. The leaves on the roadside had already turned yellow, drifting to the ground with every gust.

Yan Jin ran through the fallen leaves, his breath coming in slight huffs, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat.

The System perched on his head, using its phantom little paws to wipe his sweat. “You’re really looking for trouble so early in the morning.”

“The soothing incense Su Huai sent is gone. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to run a bit to loosen my muscles,” Yan Jin said.

Suddenly, a child appeared nearby, looking about six or seven years old. He was holding a steaming bun and took a large bite, his cheeks instantly puffing out like a squirrel hoarding food. As he chewed, his eyes widened as he stared at Yan Jin.

The System quickly shrank back into hiding. Yan Jin slowed his pace and met the child’s gaze.

As they passed each other, the child finished the rest of his bun in one gulp and began running alongside Yan Jin.

This kid is quite the familiar one?

Yan Jin raised an eyebrow and suddenly accelerated, pulling ahead for a distance before slowing down. When the child caught up, Yan Jin’s eyes crinkled; he accelerated again, playing with the kid as if he were exercising his cat, Little White Plum. He was having a blast, and the six or seven-year-old was at that stubborn, “donkey-tempered” age where a challenge couldn’t be ignored; the boy insisted on chasing him.

And so, the playful Master Yan led the boy in two or three circles before vanishing without a trace in a flash, leaving the child behind to wail in frustration.

“How old are you even? Are you that childish?” the System, having witnessed the whole scene, complained.

Yan Jin hummed a nameless tune as he walked to a breakfast stall. He bought two buns for himself and said happily, “It’s rare to be this carefree. I’m in a good mood.”

The Uncle’s Watch

Ever since he had parted ways with Su Huai in Huaian, he had been personally escorted back to the Zhou Estate by a late-arriving Zhou Qingheng. Every day, men were sent to follow him, keeping a strict watch for fear he would run off again in the blink of an eye. Yan Jin had used every tactic soft persuasion and hard pressure for several months before Zhou Qingheng finally removed half of the guards.

However, the removal of guards didn’t mean Zhou Qingheng had relaxed his vigilance. He would still appear from the most unexpected places after Yan Jin went out to bring him back.

Like right now.

Yan Jin had just finished his bun and was stretching lazily to enjoy the cool morning when he suddenly paused. Feeling something was wrong, he turned to flee, but before he could take a few steps, he ran straight into Zhou Qingheng, who had been waiting at the corner.

Yan Jin: “…”

He took a step back, looking for another exit, but a rustling sound came from behind him several guards had already blocked his path.

“A wise man knows when to submit to circumstances.” He chose to give himself a way out, offering a sheepish smile. “Good morning, Uncle.”

Zhou Qingheng lifted an eyelid. “The Three Rules. Recite them.”

The “Three Rules” was an agreement Zhou Qingheng had made with Yan Jin after removing half the guards, intended to keep him resting peacefully.

“One: have a doctor check my pulse once every morning and evening. Two: take my medicine on time. Three: tell you whenever I go out,” Yan Jin replied obediently.

Zhou Qingheng let out a cold snort. “Where is the doctor? Where is the medicine? And did you tell me?”

The doctor was a quack, the medicine had been poured out, and as for the last one…

Yan Jin touched his nose guiltily. “Well, weren’t you still asleep when I got up, Uncle?” He paused, noting the dark circles under Zhou Qingheng’s eyes. A thought occurred to him, and he let out a muffled laugh. “Besides, I heard that last night, because you were unhappy that your newborn son was sleeping with my Aunt, you were kicked out of the room and made to kneel mmph!”

Before he could finish, his mouth was covered tightly by Zhou Qingheng’s hand.

“You can eat whatever you want, but you can’t say whatever you want! Are you talking in your sleep?” Zhou Qingheng’s face turned bright red. He shot several glances at the guards and began dragging Yan Jin away.

However, Yan Jin, rarely having the upper hand, refused to let it go. He pulled the hand away and said, “It seems Aunt hasn’t calmed down yet. This morning I saw Wuxue bring a bamboo-woven prayer mat for you to continue kneeling on. I wonder…”

“Ayo, ayo! My little ancestor, stop talking! Leave your uncle some dignity!” Zhou Qingheng said hurriedly. “There’s a letter for you! A letter! Just stop talking!”

“Another letter?” Yan Jin was stunned.

“Yes, it just arrived. I went to your room to find you, but you weren’t there, so I searched all the way here.” Zhou Qingheng pulled a letter from his robes. “It’s from that Junior Brother of yours, Su Huai, again. This is the third one this month. I haven’t seen you reply once; this one is probably urging you for a response.”

Yan Jin took the envelope. As soon as he opened it, something fell out. He caught it quickly—it was a few stalks of yellow-brown wheat. Despite the long journey, they had been preserved almost perfectly.

“Ho! Wheat from the Northwest. Good stuff!” Zhou Qingheng leaned in for a look, reaching out to take a stalk for closer inspection. However, before he could touch them, Yan Jin tucked them back into the envelope.

“I’m going back now. Do as you please, Uncle,” Yan Jin waved and walked away with a spring in his step.

“Why are you going so fast? Let’s grab breakfast together?” Zhou Qingheng shouted from behind.

Yan Jin’s voice drifted back from a distance: “Replying!”

The Northwest Winds

“The harvest in the Northwest is bountiful this year, and the people are living in peace. Are you doing well?”

Yan Jin placed the wheat stalks into a brocade box. He spread out a sheet of paper, picked up his brush, and wrote the two words “Doing well” before handing it to Wuxue to be sent out.

“You’re only writing two words?” the System asked in disbelief. “The man wrote you so many letters, and you’re only sending two words back?”

“I answered what he asked. Is there a problem?” Yan Jin tidied the letters on the desk. As he picked up the final one, a crabapple flower suddenly fell out.

The petals were dried and yellowed; it had clearly been plucked a long time ago.

He paused for a moment, picked up the crabapple, and placed it in the envelope. This was the letter he had written to Su Huai before going to Huaian. Later, because they met in person and he learned Su Huai was going to the Northwest, he had sent someone to intercept the letter and bring it back.

At the time, he had written based on a sudden surge of feeling, pouring his heart into the letter. Looking at it now, it felt embarrassingly direct. Yan Jin pursed his lips tightly and, without looking at it again, quickly mixed it in with Su Huai’s letters and placed them all in a wooden box.

The box was a bit old it was something his father had left him. It contained his most precious belongings.

Yan Jin lay down on his bed, cradling the box. He sighed, “I really want to go back to the Hall of Three Lives.”

Three Years of Sand and Snow

Great winds often blew in the desert, sending yellow sand flying everywhere. But beside the irrigation canals of the oasis, the wheat grew exceptionally well, creating a golden sea. The common folk farmed and tended sheep beneath the beacon towers.

Lin Jiebai stood holding a small lamb and wailed, “I want to leave! I want to go back to the Hall of Three Lives!”

Su Huai, while sorting through freshly dug medicinal herbs, said, “Senior Brother Lin, please come and help me.”

“I won’t! I want to go back! It’s deathly hot during the day here and freezing like ice at night. I can’t eat well or sleep well, and the clothes and jewelry aren’t even pretty! I’ve become skin and bones after being here for half a year!” Lin Jiebai shouted, burying his face in the lamb’s wool as if he intended to stifle himself.

Su Huai remained expressionless despite the wailing. He continued sorting the herbs before placing a back-basket beside Lin Jiebai. “These are the licorice roots Little Ma wanted. Please deliver them to her house.”

Hearing this, Lin Jiebai looked up with teary eyes in protest. “I’ve been crying for so long—can’t you at least comfort me? You’re still bossing me around!”

Su Huai tucked his hands into his sleeves and said nothing. He only offered a gentle smile before turning back to his work. The smile was extremely tender the kind that both young ladies and girls would adore but Lin Jiebai shuddered violently and immediately dropped the lamb to shoulder the basket.

In the gap while putting on the basket, he stole a glance at Su Huai’s back and was momentarily stunned.

Why is Junior Brother looking more and more like Eldest Senior Brother?

Su Huai’s frame was as upright as a pine tree. The twilight sky blended his green robes into the vast landscape, giving him a sense of immovable calm. It felt as though even if the heavens collapsed, he could turn the danger into safety.

Lin Jiebai had seen only one other person with such an aura: Yan Jin. The difference was that Su Huai was quieter than Yan Jin. Yan Jin only showed his true nature when alone, whereas Su Huai’s stillness was from the inside out.

“Junior Brother is now quite a famous divine doctor around here. Truly impressive,” Lin Jiebai sighed with sincerity.

He was never stingy with praise, and since he had participated in Su Huai’s growth, his praise was heartfelt. He expected it to at least earn a smile, but Su Huai only glanced at the basket and said calmly: “Senior Brother Lin, you are overthinking. A healer does not boast of fame nor calculate profit. You should deliver that licorice first.”

With that, he walked away with the remaining herbs, leaving Lin Jiebai with a mouthful of cold wind. “…”

You brat! As expected of someone raised by Eldest Senior Brother. Eldest Senior Brother is openly infuriating, while Su Huai is secretly cutting truly of the same lineage!

Lin Jiebai walked forward huffily when a figure suddenly zoomed past him toward Su Huai in the distance.

It was exactly the “Little Ma” he was looking for. He tried to call her, but the girl ran so fast she didn’t even see him.

The little girl ran across the grassland, her braids flying, a joyful smile on her face.

“Brother Su!” she shouted, waving something in her hand. “There’s a letter for you! The envelope has the name you taught us to recognize!”

Lin Jiebai caught up, panting, and took a moment to think about what name Su Huai had taught the children here.

He thought for a second, then his face went wooden. He wanted to slap himself several times.

What was I thinking? Why look for trouble? What other name could it be? Besides “Yan Jin,” what other name could there be? Is there anyone else in Su Huai’s head besides Eldest Senior Brother?

He instantly lost his motivation, feeling so depressed he wanted to hit someone but didn’t dare. He could only pray that his Eldest Senior Brother’s reply was as unromantic as ever.

On the other side, Su Huai placed his herbs on the ground and wiped his hands several times before taking the letter. He hesitated for a long while before finally opening it.

Then, Lin Jiebai watched as the Su Huai, who had just come to life, suddenly withered like a dying flower.

Excellent!

Lin Jiebai happily picked up the lamb and gave it a kiss. Even the back-basket looked attractive to him now. Eldest Senior Brother truly did not disappoint.

The Return Journey

The days passed one by one. When the winds of the grassland again blew through the alleys of Yangzhou, three years had already drifted by.

The wind swirled, blowing snowflakes into Zhou Qingheng’s hair.

Outside, a thin layer of snow covered the green tiles, and bits of ice floated in the river. Even the painted pleasure boats had ceased operation. Yet, a carriage prepared for a long journey stood at the gates of the Zhou Estate.

“Ah—choo!” Zhou Qingheng pulled his cloak tighter. “You’re really leaving?”

Yan Jin was directing the servants to load his belongings onto the carriage. Hearing this, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “My nephew is already old enough to run around and throw tantrums; please let me go. Let me go back to the Hall of Three Lives.”

“Bah! You brat, was I trying to trap you? I was only…”

“I know, I know,” Yan Jin smiled. “Thank you, Uncle.”

He continued: “The Yan family assets are of no use to me. I’m leaving them all to you; I’ve already sent someone with the land and house deeds.”

Zhou Qingheng’s arrogance instantly vanished, replaced by gloom. “Why give them all to me? Keep them for yourself as a fallback.”

“Think of it as a gift from my father to my mother. He never had a heart for these things anyway.” Yan Jin boarded the carriage with Wuxue’s assistance. He looked back at Zhou Qingheng one last time. “Besides, if I run into trouble, won’t you help me, Uncle?”

These words made Zhou Qingheng lift his chin high in pride. Seeing that he had coaxed the man into a better mood, Yan Jin turned to Wuxue. “There is no one left in the Yan residence. In the future, whether you stay with the Zhou family or go out into the world, it is up to you. If you wish for a stable life, I have left a chest of banknotes and a dozen acres of land for you. It is all your choice.”

He paused, wiped away Wuxue’s tears, and said softly: “Just as I said ten years ago—live for yourself. You no longer need to follow my mother’s words to watch over me or the Yan family.”

“I’m not crying because of that,” Wuxue wiped her eyes. “I just can’t bear to see the Young Master go. I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again.”

Yan Jin didn’t respond, only smiling as he rubbed her head. In ancient times, carriages and horses were too slow; longing often accumulated for a long time during the journey.

Su Huai had already set off for the Hall of Three Lives three months ago, while he was still in Yangzhou.

Zhou Qingheng didn’t give up, asking again: “Won’t you stay until after the New Year?”

“No.” Yan Jin gazed toward the direction of Yizhou. He felt a mix of anxiety and a deep longing for home.

“My heart is like an arrow, eager to return.”