Futile Devices Scans

The brocade box felt heavy in his hands. Upon the moon-white lining rested a matching pair of ornaments. One was a gold lapel ornament shaped like a white stork standing upon auspicious clouds, holding a string of gentian-flower amethyst tassels in its beak. The other was a large pendant of clear, richly colored amethyst carved into…

A little fox sleeping beneath flowers while hugging its own tail.

“I understand the stork. What’s the fox supposed to mean?”

Although his tone was questioning, his voice was sweet and sticky, like a fox that had secretly drunk honey and was now humming with satisfaction.

Wei Fu carried the box through the carriage curtain and happily rubbed his way over to Yugong Zhaoye, insisting that he put the ornaments on him personally.

Vermilion and purple had always been considered noble colors, and purple suited Wei Fu especially well. Yugong Zhaoye hung the amethyst fox pendant from the fox spirit’s waist and casually answered, “You didn’t know? Someone at court gave you a nickname. They call you the Xiling Fox. I think it’s rather cute.”

That definitely wasn’t what they meant…

Wei Fu guiltily wiped away a drop of cold sweat.

“Haha. Never heard that one before. You Longsha people really know how to make things sound nice.”

Yugong Zhaoye smoothed the tassels of the lapel ornament in passing. The delicate little flowers tapped against one another, producing a fine, pleasant sound.

His expression was calm and attentive, as though inspecting a completed work, yet also as though admiring the beloved he had carefully adorned with his own hands.

There was not even the slightest hint of impropriety in that gaze, yet somehow it made Wei Fu’s ears burn.

It made him keenly aware of how deeply he was cherished.

Gold, silver, pearls, and jade were not precious enough.

Heaven, earth, and the shade of flowers all seemed to look upon him with favor.

Satisfied, Yugong Zhaoye crooked one finger, signaling for him to lower his head. He pressed a light kiss to the corner of Wei Fu’s lips, like stamping a seal after final inspection, and praised:

“Very pretty.”

The fox spirit was so captivated that his soul practically left his body.

He blushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“What made Your Highness suddenly think of giving me these?”

Wei Fu pulled the small knife from his sleeve and compared the ornament with the amethyst leopard hanging from it.

“Did Your Highness carve them yourself?”

Giving jewelry did not particularly resemble Yugong Zhaoye’s style.

Yet this was unquestionably the sort of thing only Yugong Zhaoye would think to give him.

“I don’t have that kind of skill. I’d only ruin perfectly good material.” Yugong Zhaoye was admirably self-aware. “I hired a craftsman. The craft has been passed down in his family for generations. Apparently, his ancestors even made phoenix crowns for queens. As expected, the carving is extremely lifelike.”

“You hired someone from a family that made phoenix crowns… to carve a fox.”

Yugong Zhaoye gave a fake cough.

Refusing to admit that he privately called Wei Fu a fox spirit, he forcibly changed the subject.

“Love of beauty is human nature. The King spends every day grooming himself, and the rivers and mountains haven’t collapsed because of it. Dress however you like. There’s no need to care about what other people think. Naturally, I don’t mind either.”

Wei Fu gave a confused, “Huh?”

For a moment, he had no idea where this had come from.

Yugong Zhaoye glanced at him.

“Didn’t you ask me the other day whether you ought to dress yourself up more?”

Wei Fu remembered.

On the day the Capital Security Bureau reported the results of the poisoning investigation, he had complained to Yugong Zhaoye that the King spent every day fussing over his appearance. It had merely been teasing, but His Highness had misunderstood and thought Wei Fu was testing the waters.

“That wasn’t what I meant…”

Wei Fu did not know whether to laugh or cry.

But a person adorned themselves for the one who delighted in them. That was only natural. There seemed no particular need to correct the misunderstanding.

After thinking for a moment, he said, “Rather than liking to dress up, I think I like Your Highness dressing me up. Then Your Highness will like me even more.”

Yugong Zhaoye thought, With the way you behave, exactly which part of calling you a fox spirit is unfair?

But Wei Fu had already jingled his way closer, using that flattering yet unmistakably scheming tone to inquire:

“Then… when is Your Highness’s birthday?”

Yugong Zhaoye did not even turn his head. Looking straight ahead, he somehow managed to drive the carriage with an air of solemn righteousness.

“What for?”

“Tell me, A’Ying.”

“Want to know?”

Wei Fu nodded devoutly.

Yugong Zhaoye smiled.

“Go guess.”

Wei Fu: “?”

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

Chancellor Wei, known throughout court for being quick-witted and adaptable, forever had the same first reaction whenever he encountered an obstacle before Yugong Zhaoye.

Not to use his brain.

To charge straight at him like a silly goose, nudging him while honking loudly.

“Your Highness knows my birthday, but I don’t know yours! That isn’t fair!”

“I want to celebrate your birthday with you too! Your Highness—! A’Ying—!!”

But no matter how Wei Fu pestered, wheedled, begged, acted spoiled, or even chased Yugong Zhaoye around kissing him repeatedly, His Highness relied upon his mighty willpower and kept his mouth firmly shut.

Not one word escaped.

Wei Fu resentfully bit his earlobe and discovered that this piece of hard-hearted ice could not be licked into melting.

At last, he dug his reason out from the field of little pink flowers scattered everywhere and began seriously considering why Yugong Zhaoye, who usually indulged him in practically everything, would avoid such a harmless little question.

Judging from Yugong Zhaoye’s attitude, the avoidance was not born from pain or some unspeakable secret, nor did it resemble the protection of classified information. If they were currently in Bihan City, his birthday would probably be extremely easy to investigate. So long as Wei Fu wanted to know, he would discover it sooner or later.

His refusal seemed more like procrastination born from fear of trouble…

Perhaps mixed with a little wicked desire to watch Wei Fu jump around anxiously and spin in circles.

Why did Yugong Zhaoye think that if Wei Fu learned his birthday, trouble would inevitably follow?

An invisible tail swayed behind him.

Wei Fu stared thoughtfully at Yugong Zhaoye’s beautifully pale profile.

A moment later, inspiration struck.

He straightened with a whoosh, leaned closer, and mischievously wound a strand of Yugong Zhaoye’s hair around his finger.

“A’Ying, if I remember correctly, we’re the same age, aren’t we?”

Yugong Zhaoye glanced at him without answering.

Wei Fu took the silence as confirmation.

An ill-intentioned smile immediately appeared at the corner of his lips. Deliberately in full view of Yugong Zhaoye, he drew that strand of hair to his mouth and kissed it.

“Is your birthday in autumn or winter?”

He watched the minute changes in Yugong Zhaoye’s expression.

Understanding dawned.

“Ah. Winter.”

“You won’t tell me because your birthday comes after mine.”

Those tiny kisses traveled upward along his hair, gradually encroaching upon the space beside Yugong Zhaoye’s ear. Warm breath brushed his temple, broken whispers drifting through the wind while Wei Fu’s arrogant smile practically climbed onto Yugong Zhaoye’s face.

“You’re afraid that if I find out… I’ll force you to call me gege, aren’t you, A’Ying?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

What a rotten fox.

Stupid when he ought to be clever, clever when he ought to pretend stupidity.

I’m throwing him into the sea later.

“Still not admitting it?”

Wei Fu kissed the slightly taut, bow-shaped peak of his lips, pecking him once between every sentence.

“So cunning. You’re clearly younger than me, yet you once declared that you would be my elder brother. You took advantage of me and fooled me for all these years…”

Yugong Zhaoye was kissed until his spine tingled. Through clenched teeth, he squeezed out:

“Who fooled you… Move aside. Stop blocking my view of the road.”

“Then call me gege. Call me gege and I’ll move.”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

Exactly as expected.

Once this little bastard seized a weakness, he never let go.

Yugong Zhaoye gave him an elbow and scolded softly, “Stop messing around. If the carriage crashes into a tree because of you, I’ll end up shouting for you not to die.”

Wei Fu: “…If you don’t want to do it, just say so. There’s really no need to curse yourself. Look, I’m sitting properly now. Isn’t gege very well behaved?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

“Are you addicted to this?”

After being stared at for ages by Wei Fu’s sparkling eyes, Yugong Zhaoye truly had no choice. Half angry and half amused, he demanded, “What’s so wonderful about being gege?”

“It’s wonderful being your gege,” Wei Fu answered with perfect certainty. “It’s not as though I want to be anybody else’s.”

“Then being my younger brother is also quite wonderful.”

“Turning black into white… Your Highness, I’m amazed you can even say that.”

“A month or two’s difference hardly matters.” Yugong Zhaoye glanced sideways at him. “Besides, weren’t you the one who started this?”

In truth, Wei Fu himself could not explain exactly what benefit there was in being the older one.

He simply felt instinctively that being gege made him some sort of intimate protector.

He wanted to see this apparently indestructible person depend upon him, expose every vulnerable part of himself before Wei Fu, think of him first whenever something happened, and never be able to leave him.

But Yugong Zhaoye seemed to possess no weaknesses whatsoever and had no need for anyone’s meticulous protection. He would probably even complain if someone held an umbrella for him and blocked his view.

He really was extraordinarily difficult to conquer.

By the time they reached Yifeng Harbor, dismounted, boarded the boat, and slowly headed out to sea, Wei Fu was still locked in his tug-of-war with Yugong Zhaoye.

The sky gradually darkened.

Evening clouds trailed their light skirts as they drifted away beyond the gray-blue horizon. The sea changed from clear blue into deep darkness. Waves splashed against the hull with a monotonous, lingering rhythm.

Looking around, sea and sky were equally vast and boundless.

Only a thin line of lights remained upon the distant shore.

The vessel they had boarded was called the Golden-Winged Boat, a passenger craft specially designed for pleasure trips at sea. Unlike an ordinary cargo ship, it was anything but plain. The hull was richly decorated with carved beams and painted rafters. The guest rooms were naturally spacious and exquisite, while the second-floor terrace held a pavilion with flying eaves, furnished with screens, low tables, and other comforts. Guests could recline upon short couches on the deck and admire the night scenery.

“Can you really not call me gege?”

“No.”

“Then what day exactly is your birthday?”

“Guess.”

“Can I blindfold you tonight?”

“…No.”

“Didn’t you say I could do whatever I wanted today?!”

“You can blindfold yourself and call me gege.”

Wei Fu stared at him in shock.

“A’Ying, you—you’re so…”

“Do not impose upon others what you yourself would not desire. Understand?” Yugong Zhaoye said indifferently. “Lust-addled Young Master Wei.”

Elio’s Notes: “Do not impose upon others what you yourself would not desire” is a famous Confucian maxim from the Analects.

Wei Fu was rendered speechless.

After choking for a long while, he suddenly turned over viciously, dragged Yugong Zhaoye into his arms, and bit down hard on his neck. Then he deliberately blew against the skin behind Yugong Zhaoye’s ear and murmured ambiguously:

“I didn’t realize Your Highness liked that kind of thing. Fine…”

His Highness, abruptly counterattacked, turned his face aside.

I teased him too far.

Trying to salvage matters, he muttered, “…I don’t like it that much.”

“But if I can’t see…”

Wei Fu pretended not to hear.

Pressing his forehead against Yugong Zhaoye’s, he softly continued as though talking to himself:

“…then A’Ying will have to climb on top by himself. Is that alright, good gege?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

Incredible.

The fox spirit was finally showing his claws.

Yugong Zhaoye narrowed his eyes into the night wind. In the distance, several streaks of white flame suddenly shot across the dark sky.

Taking advantage of Wei Fu’s split-second distraction, Yugong Zhaoye hooked one foot around his calf, tightened his waist and abdomen, and twisted.

With effortless ease, he reversed their positions.

In the blink of an eye, top and bottom switched, and Yugong Zhaoye was pressing Wei Fu down upon the couch.

“…”

“I don’t want to play any gege-didi games with you.”

Yugong Zhaoye looked down at him.

“Before you start doing whatever you want, you’d better first figure out who I am to you.”

A smile hovered on his lips from above.

His mouth formed two words.

They brushed briefly against Wei Fu’s ear before the roaring sea wind swept them away and buried them beneath the thunderous explosion of fireworks.

Dozens of enormous fireworks erupted simultaneously across the deep-blue night sky.

For an instant, ten thousand flowers competed in splendor, and heaven and earth gave birth to spring. The rippling sea reflected a sky full of rainbow colors and golden radiance, as though an invisible hand had shattered a crystal palace.

The splintered crystal became a sky full of sparks, trailing multicolored tails of flame as they fell from the heavens toward the sea. Light overflowed everywhere, like the Heavenly River bursting its banks or liquid silver pouring across the earth.

As one brilliance dimmed, another swarm of firefly-like light rushed upward into the vast autumn night, one wave after another, spreading and blooming without end until the entire sea lay enclosed within a magnificent golden cage woven from flame and light.

The icy moon slowly rose above the eastern horizon.

Out at sea, the faint shadows upon its disc appeared even clearer, making the moonlight seem infinitely more brilliant and pure.

Perhaps even dreams were not this dazzling.

That frost-like moonlight fell lightly beside Yugong Zhaoye’s cheek.

Wei Fu’s throat rolled with difficulty.

For one instant, he felt as though his reason had been flattened into ashes.

Dazed, he lifted one hand and touched the soft cheek beneath those cool strands of hair.

“What did you just… call me?”

Yugong Zhaoye placed a dragonfly-light kiss against the inside of his wrist and neatly rolled away.

“Nothing.”

“I heard you!”

Wei Fu seized him tightly and roared amid the earthshaking explosions.

“You said it! You called me husband! Didn’t you?!”

“You’re not allowed to run! Say it again clearly!”

“What?”

Yugong Zhaoye played dumb.

“It’s too loud. I can’t hear you!”

“Call me husband! Husband!”

Yugong Zhaoye answered:

“Yes?”