The Richest Man’s Boyfriend Lives in a History Textbook - Chapter 5

Xingyuan rummaged through the pile of clothes for quite a while before finally picking out a military uniform that fit reasonably well.

Despite how slender he was, his height was on the taller end among the recruits.

The military uniforms here weren’t as loose and wide-cut as noble clothing — every opening was narrow, and naturally they fit close to the body. Xingyuan figured this design was probably meant to facilitate combat training.

Come to think of it, comparatively speaking, the military uniform’s standard cut was actually closer to the interstellar style he was familiar with.

After changing, Xingyuan went through the motions and collected himself a quilt.

By the time all the bustle settled, evening had fallen again.

The other soldiers who had come to enlist were all led away and given tents. Only Xingyuan was left standing there alone, clutching his quilt, with nowhere to go.

Xingyuan watched the busy newcomers, his doe-like eyes blinking slowly, and then he let out a sigh.

So it really was true that heaven assigns great responsibilities to great people?

The greater the future, the more hardships along the way.

He couldn’t very well give up on that future, could he?

Xingyuan heaved a long sigh. Sure enough, great figures had to keep themselves extra busy.

The temperature dropped sharply as night fell, and Xingyuan needed to find somewhere to sleep.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about simply wrapping himself in the quilt and lying down outside. But he understood that to everyone else, he was invisible — unseen and untouchable.

People were coming and going out there. It wouldn’t do to get trampled into a persimmon pancake.

Xingyuan rested his chin on the quilt and sighed deeply, a wave of sorrow washing through his clear blue eyes.

He swept his gaze over the surrounding tents, his doe-eyes narrowing slightly, and gradually a faint smile rose on his face.

In the dim and hazy twilight—

The pale, delicate young man clutched his quilt and carefully poked his head into each tent one by one. The moment he spotted someone sleeping in the nude, he immediately squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his head back out.

Not that people who dared sleep naked would care about another man seeing them — but Xingyuan was an “invisible person” after all. Walking in unannounced, even unintentionally, felt improper regardless.

Whether it was due to a shortage of resources or something else, Xingyuan observed that a single tent often packed ten or even dozens of people.

On top of that, everyone seemed to have a habit of sleeping naked, which left Xingyuan looking deeply troubled — not to mention that with so many people, he’d have an easy time getting trampled to death.

Xingyuan was at his wit’s end.

The sky grew darker and darker. Xingyuan didn’t know how long he’d been wandering alone with his quilt in his arms.

Gradually, the firelight grew sparser and sparser. His field of vision dimmed, and the surrounding noise faded along with it, until the only sound left in the quiet was a chorus of snoring.

Xingyuan hunched his shoulders and turned up the temperature setting on his school uniform. His body finally felt a little warmer — yet stillness had a way of making loneliness sink in.

Xingyuan tried to steady himself and calm down, his round eyes scanning the tents in every direction.

Xingyuan pressed on through the silence and darkness, until at last there were sounds near him again.

These were the night watchmen murmuring to each other, along with the even, measured footsteps of a patrol unit.

Xingyuan let out a breath of relief and raised his head. His field of vision, which had been nothing but pitch black, finally had some other colors in it.

Though most of the tents were still dark, a few scattered ones still had their lights on.

Xingyuan’s eyes curved into a smile, and he hurried over with his quilt to check the situation.

He had to be quick — what if they put out the lights before he got there?

He carefully lifted the flap of one tent and peeked inside, then instantly shut his eyes.

This one… also wouldn’t do.

He checked several more tents in succession, and the situation was roughly the same in each.

The one improvement, however, was that the tents he checked had fewer and fewer occupants. By the time he got to the second-to-last tent, there were only two people inside.

But the situation was the same as before, and Xingyuan could only retreat timidly once more.

Just one tent left…

Xingyuan stared at the lit tent not far away, instinctively pulling his quilt tighter. With his last remaining hope, he slowly made his way toward it.

Whoever lived inside was probably an officer — there was a night watchman posted outside.

Sure enough, this tent was of much better quality than the ones before. Xingyuan walked up to the gap in the entrance flap and carefully teased it open.

He kept his eyes shut as he poked his head inside, then ever so quietly opened them into the narrowest of slits —

Directly ahead was a table and chair. On the table lay some papers and a kerosene lamp.

Behind the table was a bed, not too large, not too small, spread with a thin mattress and a quilt much like the one Xingyuan was holding.

Two large wooden crates sat beside the bed — what was inside, he couldn’t tell.

After taking in the details of the interior, Xingyuan shifted his gaze toward the tent’s occupant.

And when he looked —

Oh! It was actually that man from earlier!

A flash of delighted surprise crossed Xingyuan’s doe-like eyes.

And best of all — what made Xingyuan happiest of all — this man was wearing clothes.

Xingyuan’s heart settled considerably. He stood at the tent entrance, quilt in arms, and continued to observe.

It was already very late. Aisley was preparing to undress and go to sleep. He had just placed his hands at his belt when he heard the sound of the tent flap being disturbed.

Aisley’s hands stopped. He kept his expression neutral, but his palm closed into a tighter grip.

He turned around slowly, and by the time he had, his hand was already on his blade.

It wasn’t until he saw the pale and delicate young man that Aisley lowered his hand.

For a moment he didn’t know whether to laugh or not — what was this person doing here in the dead of night?

Even so, Aisley still found his breathing slightly uneven.

He decided to forgo sleep for the time being. Instead, he pulled out the chair and sat down, picked up a pen, and began writing something on the paper.

Aisley pulled the lower sheet of paper out a little, writing on it character by character while keeping the young man’s movements in the corner of his eye at all times.

The young man had changed into an ordinary soldier’s uniform. If not for that impossibly fair face, Aisley doubted he would have recognized him at a glance.

But… why was the young man holding a quilt?

A wave of guesses flooded into Aisley’s mind. His scalp prickled, and his grip on the pen tightened further.

Aisley wrote the same few characters over and over, stroke by stroke, though his vision had already grown somewhat unfocused.

He was at a loss, and emotions he didn’t want to name were rising inside him. Yet he was running from them — unwilling to pull them apart or sit with them.

He glanced up once more and took another deep breath.

The young man was still standing at his doorway, quilt clutched tightly in his arms, his doe-eyes gazing inside with a glistening, watery look — the very picture of a small creature with nowhere to go.

Aisley: ……

The corners of his eyes felt a little warm. The faintest curve appeared at the edge of his lips.

Aisley slowly closed his eyes, as though setting something down.

Xingyuan stood motionless outside the entrance, his chin resting on the quilt, watching Aisley with quiet anticipation.

This was his last hope.

Since he was asking a favor, patience was absolutely necessary.

Xingyuan kept waiting. He was waiting for Aisley to go to sleep.

Because only once Aisley was ready to sleep would he know what kind of sleeper Aisley was.

Yet he waited and waited. Xingyuan felt he had been waiting for nearly half an hour, and Aisley still hadn’t gone to sleep.

During that time, Aisley had first been writing, then opened a book and read for a while.

After a long time had passed, Aisley poured himself a cup of water.

Xingyuan: ……

Come on now, aren’t you busy tomorrow?

Aisley had also been waiting for quite some time. He had deliberately left the lamp burning so that the young man could come in and settle himself while there was still light — and had been waiting for him to do exactly that.

It was only after a very long while that Aisley finally sensed something was off.

The young man had been standing so long that his legs had gone numb, and he had crouched down. Yet his pair of eyes still gazed inward, as bright as stars.

Aisley hesitated for a moment, then made a show of preparing to sleep — though he didn’t dare put out the lamp just yet.

He moved the kerosene lamp to the bedside and raised his hands to his collar.

After a moment’s pause, he still removed his military jacket, leaving on only his inner garment.

In the ordinary course of things, he would have taken everything off, but the young man was here…

He glanced down at the single layer he had on and let out a breath.

That was enough. He couldn’t take off any more.

Because his upper body muscle definition was quite evident, Aisley quickly pulled the quilt open and covered himself.

He glanced sideways at the entrance — the young man’s eyes were even brighter than before, as though he had spotted some sort of treasure.

The anxiety that Xingyuan had been holding onto finally let go.

His instincts really were good — he had a talent for reading people that went straight to his heart.

Xingyuan stood in the doorway. First he held back with a touch of self-restraint, then, leaning against the tent, he inched his way inside little by little with both arms wrapped around his quilt.

Xingyuan was fully aware that he was a guest here, and naturally couldn’t overstep.

He found himself a corner, made sure that Aisley wouldn’t accidentally step on him if he got up in the night, and only then set about “making his bed” with peace of mind.

Xingyuan had collected a very thin bedsheet, which he spread out on the ground primarily to keep from touching the dirt while he slept.

His school uniform, which he had changed out of, was spread beneath him to serve as an electric blanket. When he thought about it that way, his “bed,” aside from being a little hard, was really not so bad.

Once all of that was done, Xingyuan sat up. He propped both hands on the edge of Aisley’s bed and bent forward slightly.

“I’m truly sorry, and I had no other choice but to resort to this. If we’re ever able to meet again properly, I’ll make it up to you twice over.

During this time, please rest assured — I’ll only take up a corner of your tent. Even if you accidentally step on my bedding, I won’t hold any grudge whatsoever.

I may not be homosexual, but if you ever need to bathe or change clothes in the future, I will absolutely look away…”

Xingyuan spoke in a gentle, soft voice, keeping a humble bearing and being thoroughly polite.

Aisley looked down and watched the young man busily spread out the bedsheet.

The young man clearly had never done this sort of thing before — even a single thin bedsheet had him fumbling about with hands and feet.

What was funny, though, was that merely getting the bedsheet laid out flat left the young man looking utterly proud of himself.

He lay back and pretended to sleep, only to find that the young man who had also lain down was now sitting up again.

The young man hooked both hands over the edge of his bed. Aisley’s heart clenched, and his heartbeat stuttered for an instant.

The other’s body tilted slightly forward. Aisley instinctively grabbed hold of the quilt.

He held his breath and waited to see what the young man would do next.

And then the young man spoke.

He still couldn’t understand a word — but the other’s voice was soft and clear, and it left Aisley’s thoughts drifting into a haze.

The young man’s lips were red and his teeth were white. As he spoke he curved his eyes into a smile, and that smile was the kind that slowed the thinking of anyone who saw it.

Aisley still couldn’t understand any of it. The kid was speaking in a soft voice — sometimes a gentle little whimper, sometimes a drawn-out meow-like sound — like a kitten mewling.

Without realizing it, Aisley’s own expression had softened considerably. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the young man, the corners of his lips curving downward.

After a while, the young man finally finished talking.

He had a look of utter contentment on his face, as though a great weight had been lifted from his mind.

The young man kept both hands propped on the bed and leaned toward the bedside again.

Aisley’s eyes opened a fraction wider. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his throat bobbed.

He held his breath and shifted his body very slightly toward the edge of the bed, quilt clutched in hand.

And then the young man gave a bow and lay back down to rest.

Aisley: ……

He exhaled very slowly. There was a small flicker of relief inside him — but as for the other emotions, he had no wish to examine them closely.