DLMSWSHH Chapter 48

Tl: Hua

Chapter 48: Chill

Dusk dyed the entire forest gold.

The Duke stood beneath a tree, waiting for the boat to dock.

Matthew was slightly surprised, but remembering the last time the Duke had come out to find Zhong Ming, he didn’t think too much of it, even if it felt a bit odd. “The Duke is actually here. Let’s row a bit faster.”

He still held a great deal of respect for the Duke.

On the other side, however, Feng Tang looked at the shore as if he hadn’t heard a word, holding his oar perfectly still. Matthew frowned, puzzled: “Feng?”

Feng Tang snapped out of it abruptly, turned his gaze, and looked at Zhong Ming.

Zhong Ming had been sulking just a moment ago, but upon seeing the figure standing on the shore, he was visibly stunned. Feng Tang stared at his face; in his vision, Zhong Ming’s micro-expressions were magnified infinitely. He saw the youth purse his lips, his thick eyelashes trembling like butterfly wings before he lowered his gaze. Feng Tang saw a faint hint of red at the corners of his eyes.

His expression instantly darkened. The veins on his hands gripping the oar bulged.

Matthew caught his expression by chance and was startled. His brows knit tight as he wondered what kind of madness this man was having now.

Although Feng Tang had been a bit crazy before (especially when facing players), he had never been this moody.

Zhong Ming, undisturbed by external factors, simply buried his face in his scarf.

After a long while, Feng Tang’s hands finally loosened, and he began rowing again.

The small boat slowly approached the shore.

As the distance closed, the man’s face became clear. His expression was soft, a few smile lines tracing the corners of his mouth. Though the curve of the smile wasn’t wide, his dark eyes were brimming with mirth. One could tell at a glance that he was in an excellent mood.

Ripples spread across the lake as the prow of the boat touched the leaf-strewn shore. The boat came to a halt.

Matthew was the first to disembark, bowing his head to the man: “Your Grace.”

“Mm,” the Duke said faintly. “I’ve troubled you today.”

Matthew stepped aside. He watched as the Duke walked forward a few steps and reached out toward Zhong Ming, who was stepping off the boat.

He didn’t just reach out one hand; he extended both arms, palms upward.

The posture was somewhat like a parent saying to a child, “It’s okay, jump down and I’ll catch you.”

Seeing this, Zhong Ming paused for a moment and looked at the Duke.

Then, Matthew saw him slowly reach out both hands and place them on the man’s open palms. The Duke immediately grasped his hands and led Zhong Ming off the boat.

Zhong Ming’s feet stepped onto the thick, withered leaves, making a crisp rustling sound.

“Did you have fun?”

The Duke smiled, holding his hands and leaning down slightly. His slightly calloused palms completely enveloped Zhong Ming’s fingers as he asked tenderly, “Your hands are freezing. Are you cold?”

Zhong Ming looked at the dimples slightly indented in the man’s cheeks and was dazed for a split second. Something deep inside him suddenly stirred.

He suddenly realized that he had always been longing for such a person to be waiting for him at the door, calling his name repeatedly from a distance. Someone whose face would break into a smile the moment they saw him.

Aware of his own wavering, Zhong Ming pursed his lips: “…I’m not cold.”

“Is that so?”

The Duke said, yet he continued to hold his hands.

Matthew watched the two of them. After a moment, the Duke released Zhong Ming’s hand, and the latter immediately tucked both hands behind his back. Seeing this, the Duke chuckled, the dimple on his right cheek fully appearing.

Matthew felt a flicker of strangeness. It felt as though he had missed something important.

However, before he could capture that fleeting spark of intuition, a loud crash erupted nearby.

He looked in the direction of the sound and saw Feng Tang had slammed the oar on the ground, his expression one of uncontrollable rage. Suddenly, he strode towards the Duke: “You motherfucker—”

Matthew watched in shock as Feng Tang stopped two paces away from the Duke. His muscles were taut like an incensed beast. He cast a glance at the surprised Zhong Ming, then fixed his gaze back on the Duke’s face. As if he had reached the absolute limit of his patience, he squeezed a few words out through gritted teeth: “You and him… huh?”

The smile on the Duke’s face faded. He didn’t even look Feng Tang in the eye; instead, he looked down and pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket.

Seeing him pull those soft, knit wool gloves onto Zhong Ming’s hands, Feng Tang’s cheek twitched uncontrollably in extreme fury. He stared at the Duke’s profile and said, word for word: “Have you forgotten what we agreed upon?”

Only after the Duke had finished putting both gloves on Zhong Ming did he look up at Feng Tang: “What?”

Feng Tang stared at the Duke’s calm, flawless face. His eyes widened, and he let out a bitter, angry laugh.

“Holy shit.” He raised a hand to his temple. “You really have no goddamn shame, do you?”

Zhong Ming frowned at the crude language, wondering why Feng Tang was having another sudden fit of madness.

Then, the Duke turned, shielding Zhong Ming’s line of sight. Zhong Ming heard the man’s steady voice: “If you want to act like a lunatic, do it somewhere else.”

The Duke’s back was toward him. Zhong Ming couldn’t see his expression, but he saw Feng Tang freeze. The atmosphere around Feng Tang shifted abruptly from rage to alertness; his broad shoulders hunched slightly and his body leaned forward, assuming the defensive posture a beast takes when facing an enemy many times more powerful than itself.

The Duke remained standing tall, his voice devoid of any perceptible anger: “If you remember the agreement, you should know better than to speak recklessly in front of him.”

His tone was indifferent. However, Zhong Ming’s mind instinctively filled in the rest with movie lines like, “…otherwise, I’ll pull out your tongue.”

Hearing this, Feng Tang paused and looked toward Zhong Ming.

Zhong Ming confirmed then that the “him” the Duke referred to was himself.

What was it that couldn’t be said in front of him? Whatever it was, Feng Tang clearly swallowed it back. He straightened up, his thick brows pressing down over his eyes, his expression still hostile. But the Duke seemed to have no interest in further conversation; he turned back and lightly rested a hand on Zhong Ming’s shoulder: “Let’s go.”

Guided by the Duke, Zhong Ming turned around. He could still feel Feng Tang’s intense gaze glued to his back.

They turned and walked into the forest, leaving Matthew and Feng Tang behind.

As deep autumn took hold, the lush greenery of the forest had surrendered to withered branches, and the black soil was blanketed in dead leaves. Walking on them felt light and airy; Zhong Ming heard the crisp rustling of leaves being crushed into pieces beneath his feet.

He looked up at the Duke’s profile, which had softened once again.

“…Where are we going?”

The Duke looked back, smiled at him, and said naturally, “Home.”

Zhong Ming blinked, then whispered, “Why aren’t we taking the way we came?”

“It’s a slight detour,” the Duke said. “I know a path with better scenery.”

Zhong Ming felt the man was doing this on purpose. He weighed it in his mind, and, recalling Feng Tang’s furious face, the scales ultimately tipped in the Duke’s favor. Besides, Matthew was carrying all the supplies; Zhong Ming had no heavy load, so a walk wasn’t out of the question.

He didn’t object, silently following half a step behind the Duke.

A rich twilight slowly descended behind them.

Everything in sight was dyed a deep orange-red. The colors were warm, but the temperature was cold. Zhong Ming looked up at the horizon, where the sunset hit the perpetual snow atop the mountain peaks; it felt like it might snow soon.

Beside him, the Duke reached out his hand, a signal for Zhong Ming to take it.

Zhong Ming pursed his lips and ignored him.

The Duke waited for a moment. Feeling no soft touch, he turned to him: “What is it?”

Zhong Ming raised his eyes, stared at him for a while, and asked, “Why don’t you give me a salary?”

The Duke had expected him to ask about the conflict with Feng Tang and was caught completely off guard. It took a long moment for him to process what Zhong Ming was saying.

Zhong Ming lowered his eyes, his eyelashes trembling. “You don’t give me a salary… when we go out, I don’t even have money to buy things.”

The Duke froze entirely. His thick lashes lowered, obscuring half of his dark pupils, which reflected Zhong Ming’s slightly downcast face. For the first time, an expression akin to helplessness appeared on that consistently calm face.

The old-fashioned Duke didn’t know how to describe his current feelings.

In more modern terms, it was the kind of thing that would make him wake up in the middle of the night and slap himself twice.

Zhong Ming kept his head down and heard a rustling sound, like something surging urgently. He looked down and noticed long, tentacle-like shadows appearing on the ground.

A moment later, a small white cloth pouch was placed in his palm.

Zhong Ming looked up at the pouch, hesitated for a second, and then reached out to pull the drawstring open.

Golden light reflected on Zhong Ming’s eyelids. He looked closely and found several dozen round gold coins. Carved in the center was a fierce lion’s head, surrounded by a wreath of rose thorns. He couldn’t tell what era the coins were from, but they were clearly no longer in circulation.

But the gold was the real deal. It felt heavy in his palm.

“I’m sorry,” the Duke’s low voice said. “This is all I have on me right now.”

Zhong Ming’s eyebrow twitched. He did a mental calculation of how much this gold was worth. Based on market prices, a gold bracelet costs tens of thousands; these coins were so large, and there were so many—

“Cough.” Zhong Ming gave a light cough, tied the pouch shut, and slipped it into his pocket. He looked down and said, “It’s okay.”

The Duke looked down at him, still feeling a bit guilty. He flexed his right hand as information he had cast into the corners of his long memory resurfaced. He had some gemstones and precious family heirlooms. Among them was a sapphire necklace that he must have placed somewhere in the study.

The Duke thought of many things, but banknotes never crossed his mind. Of course, he couldn’t be blamed; he hadn’t had a need for currency in many years.

Zhong Ming, however, had already been coaxed into a good mood.

Though he didn’t remember clearly, Zhong Ming felt that with his former college degree, he wouldn’t have been able to earn this much gold working a normal job.

He composed his expression, feeling bright and sunny inside, and proactively took the man’s hand.

“Let’s go.”

The Duke suddenly felt the soft touch on his hand and snapped back to reality. He saw Zhong Ming’s expression had softened as he leaned slightly toward him.

Any closer and he would have been snuggling against his side.

The Duke paused. Suddenly, he understood something.

It seemed he had found another way to make someone happy.

The two wandered by the lake until the twilight shifted from orange-red to a pale pink, then to a hint of purple, and finally to a deep black. Halfway through, Zhong Ming grew tired from walking. The Duke led him to sit on a small hill. He hadn’t been lying; from that low hill, one could see the distant snow-capped mountains reflected in the lake perfectly framed between two trees. The scenery was as beautiful as a postcard sent from abroad.

As the sky grew darker, sleepiness washed over Zhong Ming.

He hugged his knees, the scent of crisp snow and ice in the evening wind filling his nose. He watched the stars on the horizon as his eyelids grew heavy. Later, he seemed to lean against the Duke’s shoulder.

Zhong Ming didn’t quite understand how he ended up back at the mansion or back in his own room.

When he woke up again, it was the following morning.

This time, Zhong Ming was well-adjusted to the pajamas he was wearing, having learned not to think about who had changed his clothes.

Perhaps because he had walked so much the previous day, Zhong Ming slept exceptionally well that night. He didn’t dream at all, sleeping straight through until dawn.

Waking up the next day, he felt refreshed. The fatigue from the day before seemed to have vanished completely.

Zhong Ming took a light breath, hopped out of bed, and ran to the wardrobe. He pulled out the small cloth bag he had hidden in the deepest corner and counted the gold coins again.

Life is good.

Zhong Ming’s eyes crinkled with a smile. He stood up, stretched, and got dressed. Seeing it was still early, he decided to go for a walk.

Since he had run into Shen Weinian and the others near the warehouse last time, Zhong Ming chose a different path. He exited from the east side of the mansion and walked toward the snow-capped mountains. Zhong Ming was the type to walk with his head down; looking at the dark brown dirt path, he clearly felt the soil was harder than before, as if the moisture had been sucked dry by the cold wind.

The temperature seemed even lower than the day before.

Zhong Ming shoved his hands into his pockets and walked quietly along the path.

However, as he passed through the woods, a dark shadow suddenly appeared in his vision.

Zhong Ming stopped dead in his tracks. Seeing two feet not far away, he froze.

Then, he followed those feet clad in sneakers upward.

Four corpses were neatly arranged, hanging from tree branches with their backs to him.

Hemp ropes were looped around their necks, tied to the branches. Their limbs hung limp, swaying gently in the cold wind like the withered leaves nearby that were about to fall. Zhong Ming’s pupils contracted sharply.

He looked at the corpses swaying in the tree; they were still wearing school uniforms with the name of a certain sports academy written on the back.

Shen Weinian had issued the threat yesterday, and today these players were dead. Their bodies were hung in such a prominent place. It felt like an act of venting, or perhaps a demonstration of power.

Cold sweat broke out on Zhong Ming’s forehead, and he couldn’t pull himself together for a long time.

However, just then, his vision caught a figure.

Zhong Ming’s gaze moved past the branches holding the corpses and found a person hugging the thick trunk of that tree, seemingly trying to climb up. But he didn’t seem skilled at climbing; his movements were clumsy, and every time he climbed a short distance, he would immediately slip and fall. Furthermore, he seemed injured; beneath the sleeve rolled up to his elbow on his right arm, a forearm wrapped in bandages was visible.

In the midst of the movement, Zhong Ming saw his pale profile.

It was that Korean man.