Encountering a Snake - Chapter 22

v2c22

 

Shen Jue pushed open the courtyard door and saw his father sitting under the window, along with Ji Jiu just on the other side of the window.

 

The two were separated by a window, each enjoying the sunlight and dealing with their own affairs. Shen Jue raised his eyes and glanced at the sky. It was a deep blue; April had already brought spring back to the earth. The afternoon sunlight was quiet and gentle, and the breeze that passed through the courtyard caressed his face, no longer carrying the harsh chill of winter. Everything seemed perfect.

 

Shen Jue didn’t want to disturb them. He quietly closed the courtyard door and walked toward his own small house, but was called by Yi Mo, who had kept his eyes closed.

 

Yi Mo said, “Come here.”

 

It was a tone that fully resembled that of a father calling his son, a far cry from the indifference and disdain he had shown over a hundred years ago when he had thrown him on a chair out of contempt for the cub’s scent. The most aloof of demons had been shaped by time into a qualified father.

 

Ji Jiu tilted his head and looked at the father and son from under the window, but didn’t intervene. He wasn’t sure why Yi Mo had called him over, and if it was about last night, Ji Jiu felt a bit uncomfortable. After all, it was Shen Jue’s personal matter, regardless of whether the other person was the emperor.

 

Shen Jue stood in front of Yi Mo, being respectful as always, calling out, “Father,” before glancing at Ji Jiu and adding, “Dad.”

 

Hearing these two calls, Ji Jiu felt a sudden awkwardness, as if witnessing a couple disciplining their child. He could only respond and lower his head, gripping the pen to continue writing the unfinished letter, pretending to be busy.

 

Yi Mo opened his eyes and looked at Shen Jue, inspecting him for a moment before asking, “Is it good?” His question was so lazy, it was as though even asking took effort.

 

Shen Jue knew what he was referring to. His face flushed slightly, and he lowered his head, responding softly, “It’s good.”

 

This question and answer contained too many things that couldn’t be said aloud. The implication was deep, and even Ji Jiu, inside the room, felt his ears burn. Matters of love and intimacy were always secrets, things known only to those involved. Who would discuss such things openly under the bright sunlight? Although their words were restrained, they still carried a subtle crudeness, and it was precisely because of the restraint that the crude parts stood out all the more.

 

Yet, Yi Mo didn’t have a shred of self-awareness, still asking, “Did he agree?”

 

Shen Jue’s face turned even redder, and after a short pause, he replied, “He wants one time each, but I haven’t agreed.”

 

Yi Mo chuckled, as if he had expected this. Shen Jue, however, was thoroughly embarrassed by the sound of that laugh. All the calmness and composure he had shown the previous night when dealing with the emperor were gone. He now felt like a child being questioned by his parents.

 

It was just like that Lantern Festival night, when Shen Qingxuan had teased him by pointing at the chubby clay dog sculpture, and Yi Mo had said: “In front of your elders, you’re just like this.”

 

The prophecy had come true.

 

Inside, Ji Jiu suddenly interrupted, rescuing him, “Enough.”

 

Yi Mo glanced at Ji Jiu through the window, clearly seeing the four words in his eyes: “You’re getting old.” Shouldn’t you be asking about this?

 

The old snake reluctantly withdrew his teasing attitude and waved his hand solemnly, saying to Shen Jue, “Go rest.”

 

One simple sentence made Shen Jue feel awkward again. Rest? You should be the one resting.

 

After everything that had happened, Shen Jue finally understood that trying to change his father’s bad habits was pure fantasy. The closer he was to him, the worse and more rampant the old demon’s bad temper became. Fortunately, his father rarely joined in on these antics.

 

Just as he was feeling relieved, he heard Ji Jiu say, “Go rest. You don’t have to do the housework today.”

 

“Rarely” didn’t mean “never.” Shen Jue’s face turned bright red as he quickly retreated to his room.

 

Ji Jiu genuinely cared, but after saying the words, he realized he had been a little mischievous as well. Regretting it, he received a sly glance from Yi Mo and hurriedly cleared his throat before turning back to his writing.

 

That evening, Yi Mo was up to something, and the air filled with a fragrant smell. Ji Jiu put down his pen and followed the scent all the way to the kitchen, where Yi Mo was leaning against the stove, sitting on a small stool, stirring the fire in the stove.

 

Ji Jiu asked, “What is this?” As he spoke, he lifted the pot lid.

 

He had expected Yi Mo to be preparing dinner, and was somewhat surprised—could demons cook? But when he lifted the lid, his face immediately darkened.

 

Though Ji Jiu hadn’t been home when his wife gave birth, he could tell with just one glance what the porridge was.

 

This old snake! He was deliberately making things difficult for Shen Jue.

 

Ji Jiu said, “Calm down.”

 

Yi Mo lifted his eyes, “It’s not for him.”

 

“Eh?” Ji Jiu paused, then thought for a moment before reacting, his mind now a little confused, “You’re making it for… the emperor?”

 

Yi Mo raised an eyebrow, laughing, “Why not?”

 

Ji Jiu couldn’t believe that this “confinement porridge” was meant for the emperor. This snake—Ji Jiu was at a loss for words.

 

After standing there for a moment, Ji Jiu took a spoon and stirred the porridge in the pot, saying casually, “Even though he has someone he likes, Shen Jue wouldn’t give up his own father for him. Doing something so childish… isn’t he afraid of being laughed at?” He paused before adding, “What kind of temper is this?”

 

Yi Mo’s mischievous intent was exposed, but there wasn’t a hint of shame on his face. Instead, he was very open about it, saying, “I’m happy.” He was delighted to do such childish things, so what?

 

Ji Jiu could actually understand. After raising a child for so many years, it was only natural for Yi Mo to have some emotions when his child was with someone else. But he hadn’t realized that this kind of non-blood-related affection could bind the old demon so deeply—so deeply that he would even do something so childish.

 

After thinking for a while, Ji Jiu squatted down, facing Yi Mo and narrowing his eyes, “You want to embarrass the emperor? I know him. This bowl of porridge won’t do the trick.”

 

Yi Mo became interested, asking, “What should we do then?”

 

“Let me deliver it personally, and make him call me ‘Dad’.” Ji Jiu’s eyes narrowed into crescent shapes as he asked, “How about it?”

 

Yi Mo, who had been sulking, felt his mood lighten, and shook his head, “Better if you and I go together.”

 

Ji Jiu knocked him on the head with the iron spoon, “You’re getting too full of yourself!” Trying to be kind to him and still taking advantage of the situation.

 

In the end, they both discarded the porridge. When they did, Shen Jue came out and stood beside them, staring at the pot of red, nourishing porridge. With his face flushed in the evening light, he said, “If it’s going to be thrown away, you two do it.”

 

He said it sincerely, and with a touch of grievance.

 

Ji Jiu thought of the short-lived Shen Qingxuan, glanced at Shen Jue, and said nothing. The more time passed, the harder it was to say harsh words. The two demons before him cared deeply for one another—far more than anyone he had seen before.

 

Whenever he thought of this, Ji Jiu couldn’t help but feel Shen Qingxuan had caused trouble. But then, he also thought, that person, though bedridden for most of his life, was incredibly fortunate.

 

Yi Mo had poured out the porridge and was carrying the pot, when he suddenly said, “You’ll be abandoned sooner or later.”

 

Shen Jue was easily hurt by this, lowering his head and staying silent.

 

Ji Jiu couldn’t stand it anymore, and quickly retorted, “You’re just taking advantage now. Just earlier, you were all upset about making porridge to offend the emperor. And look at you now—still acting like this even though your son hasn’t been taken yet. What will you do when he’s really taken? Go to Shen Qingxuan’s grave and cry over his bones?”

 

One sentence, and the father and son’s expressions were each different, each with its own story.

 

Ji Jiu, as if nothing had happened, turned and returned to his room.

 

Leaving Yi Mo to watch his back, he said to Shen Jue, “Why is he so unforgiving?”

 

Xiao Bao remembered what had just happened with him hurting himself and said, “I spoiled you in the last life, but I won’t do it in this one.” With that, he took a step and walked away, his demeanor clearly one of abandoning his father.

 

But after walking less than ten steps, he turned back, grabbed Yi Mo’s long sleeve, and pulled him back.

 

Once again, he lost face in front of Ji Jiu, and that night, Yi Mo began to seriously consider whether it was true that the previous life’s Shen Qingxuan had spoiled him, always doing whatever he pleased without ever being scolded by Shen Qingxuan, who had only shown him tolerance and patience.

 

Unfortunately, this self-reflection didn’t last long. After Ji Jiu lay down, Yi Mo disregarded his feelings and lay down beside him, trapping him in his arms.

 

Days passed by steadily. Ji Jiu’s promises were all fulfilled, as long as Yi Mo didn’t go too far, he allowed him to do as he wished. As for Shen Jue, he treated him like his own child, always protecting him more than reprimanding him.

 

Sometimes, when Shen Jue was badly bullied by Yi Mo, Ji Jiu couldn’t stand it and would step in to help.

 

Life went on calmly.

 

He accepted quietly that he was the reincarnation of Shen Qingxuan, and accepted the attachment of these two demons to him, though this attachment was directed toward Shen Qingxuan, not Ji Jiu.

 

Knowing this, he still calmly gave them his affection. He was even willing to give up his past grievances.

 

Not only was he repaying Shen Qingxuan, but he was also living by his own moral standards.

 

Although he was a person of little emotion, he was not without kindness.

 

The season of locust flowers arrived soon. In the mountains, fields, and forests, dozens, even hundreds, of locust trees had clusters of white flowers hanging from their branches. The few locust trees by Ji family’s ancestral tomb grew especially tall and sturdy, reaching up into the sky, and from afar, the trees appeared as if covered in white jade.

 

That morning, Ji Jiu took Shen Jue out and asked him to hold a piece of cloth to lay beneath the tree. Ji Jiu then adjusted his robe at the waist, rolled up his sleeves, and hugged the tree trunk, climbing up into the crown of flowers with a few swift movements.

 

Shen Jue stretched his neck to watch and, after a while, called out, “Father, what are you doing?”

 

In response, large handfuls of locust flowers were pulled down.

 

The flowers danced through the air, falling gently, with a pure fragrance that settled on his shoulders and hair.

 

Shen Jue understood and immediately became excited. He adjusted his robe and quickly climbed up the tree, clutching the trunk.

 

Ji Jiu was busy, but when he felt the branch beneath him shift, he turned around and saw Shen Jue’s smiling face, which startled him. He said, “The locust branches are fragile, you’ll fall.”

 

Before he could finish speaking, the branch snapped with a crack. Ji Jiu knew it was bad, but it was too late. Instinctively, he pushed Shen Jue away, and in that instant, he himself fell.

 

“Father!”

 

Shen Jue never expected this to happen. After all, the locust tree was sturdy, and the branches didn’t seem weak, yet it broke so suddenly. The push from Ji Jiu was so forceful that he was thrown onto another branch, unable to react in time. All he could do was watch as Ji Jiu plummeted to the ground.

 

Ji Jiu thought he would either die or be seriously injured, but out of nowhere, Yi Mo appeared and caught him just before he hit the ground.

 

Ji Jiu opened his eyes and saw Yi Mo’s face, still filled with shock. Rather than being frightened himself, Ji Jiu immediately thought he had scared Yi Mo.

 

He instinctively said, “I’m fine.”

 

Yi Mo simply responded, “Mm.”

 

Ji Jiu glanced around and realized he was still being held. He quickly said, “Put me down.”

 

But Yi Mo ignored him, holding him tightly, as if locking him into his own body. This way, he would be safe. With me here, you won’t be in danger.

 

Ji Jiu regained his senses and, despite the pain in his body, patted Yi Mo’s back as if comforting a child. “It’s fine, it’s fine.”

 

At that moment, Shen Jue came down from the tree and was immediately scolded by Yi Mo, “Who told you to come down? Get back up there and pick all the flowers!”

 

Without saying a word, Shen Jue obediently climbed back up the tree to gather the flowers.

 

Only then did Yi Mo let go of Ji Jiu.

 

Two hours later, with the sun at its peak, Shen Jue returned home carrying a large bundle of flowers.

 

The bundle was full of locust flowers, which were spread out in the yard, resembling a layer of jade.

 

Ji Jiu had originally wanted to make some locust flower rice to satisfy his cravings. Now, looking at the large quantity, he began to wonder whether he should make locust flower wine.

 

It took three days to process all the flowers, and by noon that day, the three of them were enjoying the fragrant locust flower rice.

 

It was the first time Shen Jue had tasted this rustic dish, and he ate three bowls in one sitting, still feeling unsatisfied.

 

While eating, he asked Ji Jiu, “How do you know how to make this? I remember you don’t cook.”

 

In fact, neither in his past life as Shen Qingxuan nor in this life as Ji Jiu was he good at such things. In his past life, he was from a wealthy family, and in this life, his family was from a noble background. Meals were always prepared by servants, so he had never needed to cook.

 

He had always been served.

 

Ji Jiu ate his meal and replied, “My mother taught me.” It was also the only dish his mother knew how to make.

 

When she was still alive, every year during this season, she would send servants to pick a lot of locust flowers from the trees, clean them, soak them, and then make them into rice or snacks. It was a rare opportunity for the whole family to gather and enjoy the sweet and delicious food.

 

Putting down his bowl, Ji Jiu smiled. “My mother used to say I was a cold-hearted person. I argued with her, but she insisted that no matter what I said, she would not change her mind. So, every year during this season, I would climb the tree to pick locust flowers and make them for myself and her to eat. But it only lasted for two years before she passed away.”

 

Shen Jue realized his question had been inappropriate and fell silent. He quickly finished his meal and left.

 

Only Yi Mo and Ji Jiu remained, eating quietly.

 

When Ji Jiu stopped eating, Yi Mo also put down his bowl and asked, “Why did she say that about you?”

 

Ji Jiu paused for a moment before answering, “Look at other people’s babies. Even when they are full, they still stick close to their mothers. Only I, after eating, would turn my back and sleep, forgetting about her.” That was why he was cold-hearted, at his core.

 

Yi Mo listened, thought for a moment, and agreed. “Indeed, you are cold-hearted.”

 

Ji Jiu had long accepted this conclusion, so he didn’t mind Yi Mo’s words. He stood up, cleaned the dishes, and took them to the kitchen.

 

Yi Mo watched him disappear into the kitchen, reflecting on human nature, realizing that a person’s character could be seen from birth. Ji Jiu’s mother was also a wise woman, and she had spoken the truth in one sentence.

 

But he didn’t know that everything had its cause. If Shen’s mother hadn’t had that kind of disposition in the past life, how could Ji Jiu have been so indifferent toward his mother?

 

The porridge mentioned in the text is a type of “confinement porridge” (月子粥, yuèzi zhōu), which is traditionally made for women after childbirth to help restore their health.