The Eldest Brother is Handsome but Sick. - Chapter 4

The room was draped in silence, save for the sound of two people’s increasingly heavy breathing. Suddenly, the candle flame by the bed flickered, emitting a sharp pop.

“Yan Jin,” Su Huai whispered. “Do you truly not want me to hate you?”

Yan Jin looked at him dazed and bewildered, his mind seemingly struggling to process the question. His brain was stuck on a loop centered on the word “hate,” causing him to grip Su Huai even tighter while shaking his head vehemently.

A drunken Yan Jin lacked his usual flippancy, an honesty that significantly cooled the fire of Su Huai’s anger.

Su Huai half-knelt by the bedside, still held fast by Yan Jin’s grip. “Then say it. Say that when you found out I was missing, you were overcome with grief. Say that while you searched for me, your heart burned with anxiety. Say that you regret ever leaving me in our Senior Sister’s care.”

Just as Yan Jin wanted to know why Su Huai resented him, Su Huai desperately wanted to ask why, over the past six months, Yan Jin had become less close to him than in years past. Both were locked in a stalemate, neither willing to be the first to speak, making the late-night hours agonizing.

Did he hate Yan Jin? Of course not.

He knew logically that the incident wasn’t Yan Jin’s fault, and the ten taels of silver had nothing to do with him. Su Huai knew this well; his frustration was simply a matter of being unreconciled.

As for what he wasn’t reconciled to…

He looked down at Yan Jin’s watery eyes. Perhaps he was unreconciled to the fact that Yan Jin was not a solitary man that he had more to rely on than just Su Huai.

He was even less reconciled to the fact that, while he was the one left with no friends or family, Yan Jin insisted he call him “Senior Brother,” no longer treating him as an inseparable companion.

“Senior Brother” was a clever title. It wasn’t as intimate as “Older Brother,” yet it wasn’t distant either; it was perfectly placed in a safe middle ground. Su Huai had only entered Sansheng Hall through his connection with Yan Jin; he was a guest, an outsider living under another’s roof.

Su Huai’s voice trailed off, then he leaned in closer, whispering in a tone that was nearly seductive, “Yan Jin, say it for me.”

“Say that you have never been able to let go.”

The room was warm. Someone had lit calming incense for Yan Jin a scent with a faint, clear sweetness that felt cozy and inviting under the winter covers.

In his half-conscious state, Yan Jin felt something warm and soft nuzzling the back of his hand. Soon, this discomfort shifted to his face, and then the “thing” seemed intent on burrowing into his blankets.

What kind of demon is haunting me?!

Yan Jin snapped his eyes open, only to find himself staring into a pair of rounds, dark eyes. Little White Plum had jumped onto the bed and was tilting its head at him. Seeing him wake, the dog immediately wagged its tail with joy, its hot breath puffing against Yan Jin’s chin while its tail thwacked loudly against the quilt.

Suddenly, the dog was scooped up by a pair of hands, revealing a face behind it. “Senior Brother, I’m back! It’s been six months; did you miss me~?”

This face possessed narrow, upward-tilted fox eyes and thin lips set in a permanent, lazy smile. His long, black curly hair was loosely tied with a red ribbon, a few stray locks brushing his neck. A red robe was draped sloppily over his frame, partially open to reveal a tiny cinnabar mole on his collarbone—a mole currently circled by a vivid red bite mark.

This one had clearly just returned from a night of debauchery.

Lin Jiebai, the Third Junior Brother who was absent seven days out of ten. He was the most “notorious” member of Sansheng Hall, a man who traveled the land with a gaggle of questionable friends chasing “wind and moon.” He had acquaintances in every corner of the country.

Unlike Xia Qingyan, who dreamed of being a wandering hero on a budget, he was a high-spender who feasted with everyone he met. A truly conspicuous prodigal son.

“How can you say that?” Lin Jiebai leaned against his palm, his other hand lifting in a delicate “orchid finger” gesture as he swayed. “It’s so heartbreaking; I’m a very fragile person, you know.”

He spun toward the window, the bells on his wrists, waist, and ankles jingling like a crowded market. It was a chaotic, noisy affair.

Yan Jin, his head throbbing, snapped, “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you picked up a new Junior Brother, so I came back to take a look.” Lin Jiebai hopped onto the windowsill, his feet swinging. “And as it turns out—” He blinked, pausing for dramatic effect. “Guess what I saw? Note that this was last night. Last~ night~ oh~ I happened to run straight into our little Junior Brother.”

Yan Jin didn’t bite. He began dressing himself. “If you have nothing to do, go to the front hall and see patients. Qingyan has been covering for you for six months; it’s time you paid her back.”

“Tsk, boring.”

Lin Jiebai grumbled, then suddenly grabbed the windowsill and flipped backward, landing outside in one fluid motion. Halfway across the yard, remembering what he had seen the previous night, he turned back to the window to wink and leer at Yan Jin. “Remember to be a little nicer to our Junior Brother. He’s still as tender as a flower bud.” With that, he sauntered away.

What on earth?

It was then that Yan Jin sensed something was wrong. Despite his desperate attempts to repress the memories, the “social death” scenes began playing in his mind like a slideshow.

A chaotic, frantic scramble followed. Yan Jin clutched his head and let out a silent scream. What did I do?! What! Did! I! Do!

First, he had cloyingly clung to Su Huai and acted inappropriately. Worst of all, he had grabbed Su Huai’s hand and spent nearly an hour sobbing like a wronged child!

Aaaaaaah! Heaven wants me dead!!!

Where was the dignity of the Eldest Senior Brother? Where was the authority?!

He couldn’t stay here another second. The Eldest Senior Brother, whose skin was usually as thick as a city wall, finally broke. He began packing his things for a second “escape” while praying he wouldn’t run into Su Huai.

However, life is a master of drama; the more one fears something, the more certain it is to happen. Just as he was about to step over the threshold, he heard Lin Jiebai’s voice in the courtyard.

“Morning, Junior Brother~”

Yan Jin spun around, intent on escaping through the dog-sized hole in the corner of the wall. But as he was halfway through crawling out, the door opened.

Simultaneously, a pair of feet appeared before Yan Jin’s face as he poked his head out of the hole. He looked up, trembling, right into Su Huai’s eyes.

How to describe that look? It was briefly surprised, then transitioned into a look of “accustomed realization.”

Lin Jiebai’s voice drifted from inside the room: “Senior Brother, that’s quite the impressive posture.”

Yan Jin, with his backside still sticking out of the hole, felt his soul leave his body. “…………”

I’m finished. Just let me turn to ash and blow away.

After a period of chaotic flustered Ness, the three finally sat in the room, each with their own thoughts. Yan Jin was practically a ghost; Lin Jiebai was there purely for the entertainment; and Su Huai sipped tea while quietly observing his surroundings.

He had left in a hurry the night before and hadn’t looked closely at the room. Now, he noticed the only “good” furniture was the bed and the wardrobe. There was a table with a broken leg, which Yan Jin had stabilized by shoving two books underneath. The corners of the room were a mess of stacked volumes.

“What medical tests are you looking for?” After an eternity, Yan Jin finally “respawned.” He crouched by the stacks, rummaging through them.

Su Huai snapped back to attention. “Anything is fine.” He had come at the request of Xia Qingyan (who was out on a house call) to get some books from Yan Jin. He hadn’t actually heard which ones she needed because his mind had been preoccupied since last night.

He hadn’t heard what he wanted to hear, because later on, Yan Jin had somehow spiraled into a crying fit while holding onto him. Usually, Yan Jin was a hard man to read, and even his crying was quiet—his eyes brimming with tears as if he’d suffered the ultimate injustice.

Yan Jin grabbed two random books from the pile and shoved them at Su Huai. “Fine, these are your ‘anythings’.” He sounded huffy, his movements sharp with annoyance. He looked ready to go another eight hundred rounds with Su Huai, looking nothing like the man from the night before.

Su Huai looked down and opened one. The pages were yellowed but intact with no folded corners. The margins were filled with insightful annotations, showing the owner had studied and preserved it with great care.

He brushed his fingers over the script. Yan Jin’s calligraphy taught by a renowned scholar in his youth was a masterpiece. Sometimes, when Sansheng Hall was truly penniless, selling Yan Jin’s scrolls was the only thing that kept them afloat.

Yan Jin is truly impressive, Su Huai sighed inwardly.

Then, he opened the second book…

The moment he saw the contents; he slammed it shut with a bang so loud the teacups on the table rattled.

This book was nothing like the first. There was no text, only illustrations drawings of two people entwined in intimate poses. There were annotations, but they were critiques of the “positions” and settings.

Yan Jin kept this in his collection? Did he study it regularly? The memory of that pale skin from last night flashed before Su Huai’s eyes again. He felt like a piece of hot iron plunged into cold water, hissing with steam.

His reaction was so extreme that Lin Jiebai snuck up behind him to peek. He let out an “Aha!” of realization. “I’ve been looking for that art collection for six months. So, it was with Senior Brother all along.”

Su Huai, already flustered, was nearly startled out of his skin by Lin Jiebai. He didn’t have time to wonder why Lin Jiebai would leave pornography in Yan Jin’s room; he simply grabbed the two books and bolted.

Yan Jin, entirely unaware of the mix-up, watched him go. Seeing Su Huai leave with the books, he figured it was a good sign and reached under the bed for a wooden crate. Reading is good; I should find him some more high-quality books.

But before he could find any, he heard a loud “thud” from outside. The windows rattled, and the person and the books by the table had vanished.

Yan Jin stood there holding the crate, bewildered. He looked at the sky, the ground, and then himself, feeling like he wanted to cry. “What did I do wrong this time?”

Lin Jiebai, witness to it all, smiled until his fox tail practically wagged in the air. “I don’t know. Maybe the ‘beautiful brotherly bond’ was just too dazzling.”

Yan Jin was speechless. He didn’t know what other people’s brotherly bonds were like, but his relationship with Su Huai…

Yan Jin sighed deeply toward the heavens. “What a pair of nemeses we are—”

As they say, nemeses are bound to meet.

After that day, Su Huai left for a house call and wasn’t seen for half a month.

Until today.

With the arrival of the twelfth lunar month, Jingning Town entered its liveliest season. Street vendors set up stalls draped in red silk, piling sugar-coated gourds and preserved fruits into mountains. Nearby, the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts drifted from a tea house. People sat under awnings peeling chestnuts while watching martial arts performances at the intersection, erupting into cheers from time to time. The whole street was soaked in a warm, festive atmosphere.

Yan Jin was crouching on the ground, coaxing a small cat huddled in the crowd. But just as he gathered it into his arms, he was hoisted up by the back of his neck and dragged toward a shop stall.

The strength and the angle were far too familiar. Before he could even turn around to speak, Su Huai launched into a scolding: “Crouching in a crowded place like this? Do you have a death wish?”

Su Huai never scolded people in public; he usually preferred biting sarcasm. But Yan Jin didn’t mind. Having finally caught the boy, he had a more pressing question to ask. Since the street was too noisy, he leaned in close, almost whispering into Su Huai’s ear: “Why were you angry that day?”

Yan Jin was truly confused. He felt he hadn’t done anything wrong, so he asked with total sincerity, without a hint of flirtation.

But in Su Huai’s mind, the illustrations from that book instantly flashed. A flush of embarrassed irritation surged in his heart. He tried to pull back to create some distance, but his movement was too sharp, and he collided with a support pillar of the stall.

With a series of soft rustles, the accumulated snow above cascaded down. It happened so fast that by the time Yan Jin reacted, Su Huai was already half-buried.

He hurriedly put down the cat and helped the shop owner dig the boy out, then ordered some warm wine to ward off Su Huai’s cold.

“Look at that, a giant snowman.”

Yan Jin placed a cup of warm wine by Su Huai’s hand, looking up to meet his eyes with a teasing glint. Around them, the townspeople’s laughter filled the air.

Su Huai’s heart stirred. He felt something shifting.

Yan Jin poured a cup of tea and clinked it against Su Huai’s wine cup, smiling. “A small drink before the hearth; another year in this white world.”

“Big snowman, spring is almost here. Won’t you stop being mad at me?”