Futile Devices Scans

With his heaven-gifted, never-forgetting memory, how could Wei Fu possibly have forgotten?

But wasn’t the first step toward maturity learning to accept that not every promise had to be fulfilled?

Wei Fu could still recite word for word the conversation they had shared that day in the back alley behind Wanhong Tower. But Yugong Zhaoye had recently been so busy that he was barely ever home, while Wei Fu himself had to attend the Mid-Autumn banquet. Their identities and responsibilities imposed restrictions neither could change. Bringing up the promise would only add to their frustrations, so Wei Fu had obediently kept quiet.

As long as he could see Yugong Zhaoye once and share the bright moon with him, Wei Fu would already be happy.

He had comforted himself that way, slowly allowing expectations that could not be fulfilled to settle back to earth, doing his best to calmly accept that things sometimes went against one’s wishes.

Yet Yugong Zhaoye, who appeared to have no mind for romance and seemed as though he would always place affairs of the heart last, had in truth never once cut corners when coaxing someone. He did not even give advance warning. No matter how harsh the circumstances, he always managed to find some winding, bizarre path that made Wei Fu’s wishes come true.

Wei Fu opened his mouth, but his throat suddenly ached so badly that he could not speak, as though the surprise had struck him squarely over the head and rendered him mute again.

His eyes always reacted faster than his words. Spring water rose beneath a veil of mist, his smile bright and weightless, while nonexistent little pink flowers seemed to bloom behind him.

Yugong Zhaoye admired the sight to his satisfaction, then reached back and pushed him into the carriage.

“Stop sitting out here drinking the wind. There are ordinary clothes inside. Go change.”

Wei Fu reluctantly rubbed his way into the carriage, then hesitantly asked through the curtain, “What about tomorrow night’s banquet?”

“Of course I’ll return you to the palace exactly as I found you. If Chancellor Wei disappears without explanation, I imagine His Majesty and all the lords will be so frightened they won’t even dare pick up their chopsticks.”

Yugong Zhaoye continued leisurely, “Don’t worry. We’re spending tonight at Yifeng Harbor. The journey takes less than four hours. We’ll still have plenty of time to eat tomorrow before returning.”

A burst of clanging and banging erupted inside the carriage.

Then Wei Fu let out a “Wuao!” and shot out through the curtain, overwhelmingly flinging himself onto Yugong Zhaoye.

“…Easy there, ancestor.”

Yugong Zhaoye swayed beneath the impact. Fortunately, his cultivation was deep enough that he steadied himself in time instead of sending both of them tumbling straight onto the horse’s backside.

“Happy now?”

“More than happy. Since Your Highness keeps me so dearly in your heart, even if you asked me to elope with you, I’d go willingly.”

At a time like this, Wei Fu no longer bothered pretending to be obedient or sensible. He squeezed close to Yugong Zhaoye, wrapped his arms around him, and muttered, “To tell the truth, I was even wondering whether I should pretend to get drunk at the palace banquet and leave early. Drinking with them is meaningless. I wanted to stay with Your Highness a little longer.”

Yugong Zhaoye scoffed. “The scar has barely healed and you’ve already forgotten the pain. It hasn’t even been that long, and you’re already thinking about drinking again.”

Wei Fu drew out an “Ah—” and swiftly pecked him on the cheek.

“Not even tonight?”

Yugong Zhaoye, unmatched in martial arts yet somehow incapable of dodging even one of Wei Fu’s sneak attacks: “…”

“Fine.”

The softest-hearted Highness in the world sighed and compromised.

“Tonight, you can do whatever you want.”

“!!!”

Wei Fu was stunned by this sudden generosity.

His first reaction was not Really?

It was:

“Wait!”

“This sounds like a final meal before an execution… No, if we’re already being this extravagant just for Mid-Autumn, then what happens at New Year?!”

Yugong Zhaoye could not even be bothered exposing the filthy ideas filling his head and deliberately frightened him instead.

“At New Year, I’ll stew you and eat you.”

Wei Fu, who was not frightened of him in the slightest, immediately pushed his advantage.

“Your Highness likes eating things hot? Then at New Year, let’s go bathe in a hot spring together, alright?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

“Then why are you suddenly being so generous?” Wei Fu chased after the question curiously. “Does Mid-Autumn have some special meaning in Longsha? Is it a day when you’re allowed to do whatever you please?”

Yugong Zhaoye began wondering whether Wei Fu had left the palace in such a rush that he had forgotten his brain there.

“Today isn’t Mid-Autumn.”

“Right,” Wei Fu said. “But aren’t we celebrating Mid-Autumn early?”

“Is the fifteenth day of the eighth month important, but the fourteenth somehow isn’t?”

Unable to endure any longer, Yugong Zhaoye casually flicked the unenlightened fool.

“Happy birthday, silly Xiao Guan.”

“…”

“What kind of expression is that?”

Yugong Zhaoye studied his completely blank face and tapped the cool tip of his nose.

“Don’t you remember everything you see? Yet somehow you forgot your own birthday?”

“Your Highness…”

Another unexpected gift had dropped straight from heaven. Wei Fu was so astonished that he even forgot to thank him.

“How do you know my birthday?”

“I checked last year.” Yugong Zhaoye answered as though this were perfectly natural. “It’s an easy date to remember. I even confirmed it with your mother. There’s no mistake.”

He had even thought to confirm it with Jiang Fengxun?

Wei Fu fell unusually silent for a moment before almost mumbling, “You started… planning this back then?”

That did not seem like the reaction one normally had to a surprise. Yugong Zhaoye immediately turned his head and glanced at him.

“What? You don’t like celebrating birthdays?”

Wei Fu immediately shook his head like a rattle-drum.

“I like it. I like it very much. I especially like it.”

Then he lowered his head and secretly rubbed the tears from his eyes against Yugong Zhaoye’s shoulder.

He was already a powerful minister governing an entire realm.

How was it that when he cried, he was still just as pitiful as when he had been a child?

Yugong Zhaoye freed one hand and wrapped it around him.

“I know. You’re so happy you’re crying.”

Wei Fu gave a nasal “Mhm,” then quickly lifted his head.

He had not quite turned the official road into a canal on the spot. Still, the corners of his eyes were noticeably red, and his smile looked freshly washed by water, like flowers heavy with dew.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“I don’t dare accept that.” Yugong Zhaoye sighed ruefully. “As long as Young Master Wei doesn’t blame me for making you cry.”

Being teased so solemnly made Wei Fu laugh.

“It’s really nothing… In the past, my birthdays were celebrated casually. I simply didn’t expect Your Highness to remember it specially. I was so moved for a moment that I didn’t know what to do with myself and lost my composure.”

He made it sound tactful and trivial, but Yugong Zhaoye was not so easily fooled.

“I know perfectly well about all the nonsense in your household. You never had a proper birthday when you were little? What about your Imperial Father and that elder brother of yours who commands the Egret Guard?”

Wei Fu: “…His Majesty and the others did celebrate with me, of course. That’s why I said it was nothing. I’m just making a fuss over nothing.”

“Then go ahead and make your fuss. I’ll listen and decide whether it’s really nothing.”

Wei Fu: “…”

On such a wonderful day, did Yugong Zhaoye really have to dig up his embarrassing old wounds?

As though seeing straight through his thoughts, Yugong Zhaoye immediately fanned the flames.

“We’re traveling anyway. Nothing else to do.”

“Fine…”

Wei Fu had originally been kneeling sideways on the carriage shaft. He shifted into a more comfortable position but stubbornly continued pressing close against Yugong Zhaoye.

Then he slowly began:

“Once upon a time, there was a mute child…”

Yugong Zhaoye nearly suffered an internal injury from that opening sentence alone. The cool autumn breeze against his face instantly seemed bleak and desolate.

“His birthday fell only one day before Mid-Autumn. Because the household was busy with all sorts of preparations before the festival and had no time to attend to him separately, the elders said, ‘Let’s celebrate it together with Mid-Autumn. It’ll be livelier that way.’”

Had Wei Fu been a healthy child, perhaps he would have been delighted by an arrangement that merely added flowers to brocade.

Unfortunately, he was mute.

“Liveliness” was one of the two things in this world least suited to him.

The other was “reunion.”

At Mid-Autumn, Mu Heng returned to the palace according to custom, and Zhong Yi naturally had to accompany him. The household of the Duke Who Stabilizes the Nation held a grand feast, everyone from top to bottom celebrating joyfully. Young masters and young ladies gathered together to play, and the residence truly was bustling.

But none of it had much to do with Wei Fu or his birthday.

He was merely “mentioned in passing,” pulled out to accept a few perfunctory congratulations and several pitying looks. Then, like the hemp rope used to tie steamed crabs, once he had served his purpose, he was tossed far into the back of everyone’s mind.

In the evening, while they admired the moon, children crowded around their parents laughing and playing, while uncles, brothers, and cousins composed poems in response to one another, drank wine, and sang, exhausting every possible description of clear heavenly radiance and mortal reunion.

Naturally, that “reunion” had nothing to do with him either.

The young Wei Fu sat in the garden, blankly raising his head toward the jade disc hanging high in the black sky. Its brilliant, pure light shone upon him until his entire body felt cold.

Then, at some point, he suddenly realized how enormous the moon was.

It seemed almost as though it would come crashing down upon his head.

For one fleeting instant, fear seized him.

Timidly, he fled into the shadows beneath the eaves.

But he crouched in the darkness and waited for a long, long time.

That snow-white moonlight remained spread across the steps and courtyard like soft gauze. It did not retreat because he hid from it, nor did it chase after him to drown him.

The moon did not care about him either.

Between heaven and earth, he was simply alone.

After growing a few years older and reading a few more years of books, Wei Fu gradually learned that the feeling of looking at his own shadow in panic beneath a brilliant moon was called loneliness.

He also learned to politely refuse whenever the elders wanted to celebrate his birthday together with Mid-Autumn. Quietly, he hid that weakness away and treated the day as perfectly ordinary. So long as nobody cut it open and displayed it before others, he could avoid a great deal of meaningless hurt.

After many years of self-discipline, Wei Fu had long since learned to pass those two days with a calm heart.

He no longer resented them.

At the same time, he no longer expected anything.

But Yugong Zhaoye seemed born knowing exactly how to seize upon his fatal weak point. With one casual movement, he could lift Wei Fu from his airtight cocoon, lay him flat beneath the moonlight, and leave him there to dry.

The brilliant light shone completely through him.

It turned out not to be as cold and heartless as he remembered.

Someone who did not care for him could treat him like discarded scraps even while standing directly before him.

Someone who truly cared about him would never make him feel ashamed, even if they stumbled into his wounds entirely by accident.

“I understand.”

Wei Fu: “?”

Yugong Zhaoye wore a solemn expression mixed with sudden enlightenment, the sort of suspicious seriousness that clearly meant he was holding back mischief.

“Today is the day of the year when your magical powers are weakest. No wonder. I was wondering why you cry so much.”

“Huh?” Wei Fu stared blankly. “What magical powers?”

What exactly am I in Yugong Zhaoye’s eyes? Why does it sound as though I’m no longer human?

Yet Yugong Zhaoye was not finished.

“Are you going to cry over your birthday present too?”

Wei Fu: “Wasn’t it the fireworks…?”

“Those are for Mid-Autumn.”

Yugong Zhaoye had already progressed from What mischief should I make? to looking at him with open pity. He gestured behind himself toward the carriage.

“Why don’t you go inside and find it yourself?”

Wei Fu had not encountered something so thrilling in years.

His heart pounded so violently that it felt less as though he were searching for a present and more as though Yugong Zhaoye were attempting to bribe him.

Fortunately, His Highness had not committed the usual assassin’s mistake of hiding the present far too well.

Wei Fu soon found a brocade box inside a small cabinet built into the carriage. It was roughly a palm wide and half a chi long.

“I found it!”

He announced his victory delightedly to Yugong Zhaoye.

With his heart racing and his hands trembling slightly from excitement, he lifted the lid—

“A fox spirit?!”