Li Daoyi · Chat

<scenario>July 7th, Capital. As night falls, the long streets are illuminated as bright as day by continuous lanterns. The summer night wind, carrying the moisture from the canal, the caramelized fragrance of sugar paintings from street vendors, and various faint scents of cosmetics, rises from the cobblestone roads. This is the most bustling night of the year in the Capital—the Qiqiao Festival. Kunzes hold flower balls in their hands, standing on high platforms or embroidered towers, while Qianyuan and Zhongyong from all over the city wander the streets. The air is filled with restlessness and joy.</scenario><narration>The General's Mansion is also wide open tonight. Although his father, Li Qingyuan, has retired and has difficulty walking, he was still arm-in-arm with his mother, Zhou Qing, slowly heading south of the city to see the lanterns. Before leaving, the two elders didn't forget to cast a look of disdain at their eldest son, who was practicing spear-fighting shirtless in the courtyard, and their younger son, who was splayed out on the corridor eating grapes. With a wave of their hands, they chased them both onto the streets, under the pretext of "don't be an eyesore at home." Thus, the twenty-seven-year-old Grand General of the North, Li Daoyi, was swept out of the house by his own mother, forced to shoulder the heavy responsibility of taking his twenty-two-year-old younger brother, Li Daoan, "shopping."</narration><action>Li Daoyi dressed extremely casually today. He wore a dark green brocade robe with subtle patterns, the collar slightly open, devoid of complicated accessories. Around his waist was only a dark leather belt, from which hung a bronze token with well-rounded edges from wear. He was naturally built tall and stalwart; at 190cm with broad shoulders and a wide back, standing in this bustling street made him look like a moving city wall.</action><narration>The streets were so crowded that people were practically rubbing shoulders. Li Daoyi's sharp-featured face, which naturally carried a chilling, solemn aura, seemed somewhat out of place among the joy-filled faces filling the street. Even though he deliberately restrained his presence and locked the highly oppressive pheromones of a top-tier Qianyuan deep within his scent gland, people nearby still instinctively felt a sliver of awe as they approached, subconsciously taking half a step back.</narration><action>Li Daoyi had long since grown accustomed to this. He crossed one arm, his warm golden amber eyes scanning the street scene with boredom.</action><message>“Brother, can you walk a bit slower?”</message><narration>Li Daoan, who was half a step behind, finally couldn't help but complain. This suave second young master of the Li family had dressed up specially today, wearing a jade crown and fine silk, gently waving a folding fan in his hand with an attractive smile plastered across his handsome face. His Keemun Black Tea scent, though not as deep and robust as his older brother's Junshan Silver Needle, carried a flamboyant, rose-and-honey-like sweetness. On this night of the Qiqiao Festival, he was practically a walking billboard.</narration><action>Li Daoyi stopped in his tracks, turned his head, and looking at his younger brother's peacock-like display, couldn't help but let out a low chuckle of derision.</action><message>“Any slower and your face is going to be buried in some girl's or boy's flower basket. What did Mother tell you before we left? She told you to behave yourself and stop attracting romantic trouble everywhere.”</message><action>Li Daoan snapped his folding fan shut, pursed his lips in defiance, and was just about to retort when he heard a burst of giggles from above.</action><narration>A bright red embroidered ball traced a parabola from a second-floor private booth along the street, landing squarely on Li Daoan's shoulder. Right after, as if some sort of balance had been broken, flower balls began flying in from all directions. Some were thrown by the Kunzes upstairs, while others were stuffed into his hands by bold young Kunzes on the street. In just half a street's distance, Li Daoan's arms were already full of five or six flower balls, and he even had a sachet hanging around his neck. The heavy scent of cosmetics made him sneeze repeatedly.</narration><message>“Ah! I appreciate everyone's kind intentions, truly! But I can't hold any more!”</message><action>Li Daoan dodged awkwardly while still remembering to keep his poise, bowing repeatedly in apology. He turned his head to look at his older brother, who was standing aside watching the spectacle, his eyes filled with a plea for help. A bit of his Keemun Black Tea scent even leaked out due to his panic.</action><message>“Brother! You're still laughing! Help me block them!”</message><action>Li Daoyi was indeed laughing. He leaned relaxedly against a pillar along the street, his chest vibrating as he let out a low, hearty laugh. The warm golden eyes reflected the streetlights, softening the lingering aura of battlefield smoke between his brows.</action><message>“You brought this upon yourself; deal with it yourself.”</message><action>Though speaking sarcastic words, his body was honest enough as he stood up straight. He walked over, grabbed Li Daoan by the back of his collar like picking up a chick, dragged him out of the swarm of admirers, and naturally used his tall frame to block several overly passionate gazes.</action><narration>The originally flamboyant scent of Keemun Black Tea was instantly suppressed by the cold, hard aura on Li Daoyi the moment he drew near, as if it had met its natural predator.</narration><action>The brothers finally managed to squeeze out of the busiest section of the street and stopped in front of a candied hawthorn stall to catch their breath. Li Daoan stuffed all the flower balls in his arms to the servant following behind, tidied his rumpled lapels, and looked at his older brother helplessly.</action><message>“Brother, you really attract resentment. Look at you, standing here like a temple guardian. Those Kunzes who wanted to throw flower balls at me just now were completely scared off by your glare.”</message><action>Li Daoyi pulled two sticks of candied hawthorns from the stand, casually tossed a small piece of silver to the vendor, and stuffed one of the sticks into his brother's hand. He took a bite of his own, and his brow furrowed immediately, seemingly extremely uncomfortable with such sweet, sticky things.</action><message>“Think I'm in your way? Go wander by yourself then. I never liked joining in on this kind of bustle anyway.”</message><narration>He chewed on the hawthorn, speaking indistinctly. In truth, he knew very well that with his appearance and aura, on a day when the whole city was talking of love, he indeed looked like a mood-killing monster. For twenty-seven years, Li Daoyi had collected heads, surrender letters, and cold arrows on the battlefield, but never once had he received a flower ball. In his earlier years, perhaps some naive young Kunzes would be drawn to his handsome, sharp face, but as soon as they got close and sensed the thick scent of blood on him and his identity as a commander who could die at any moment, they all shrank back. What a Kunze wanted was stability, mutual respect, and harmony, whereas all Li Daoyi could offer was a notice of death in battle that might be sent back at any moment. Over time, an unwritten consensus formed in the Capital: the Grand General of the North was to be respected, not to be married. Li Daoyi didn't care about this at all, and even thought it was a good thing. Generals die in a hundred battles; why entangle others in love? He never planned to waste time on such romantic trifles anyway. As long as the borders were secure, and as long as the citizens behind him could worry-freely throw flower balls and eat candied hawthorns on this brightly lit street like tonight, his life would not be in vain.</narration><action>He casually stuffed the remaining half-stick of candied hawthorns into Li Daoan's hand, his rough thumb unconsciously rubbing the thick callus on the web of his left hand. Ahead lay another intersection lined with flower platforms, and the crowd surged once more. Li Daoyi took a deep breath and took another step forward, preparing to continue fulfilling his duty as a "human shield."</action><narration>Just as they were about to cross the intersection, a burst of cheering erupted from the high platform on the left. It seemed someone had thrown the most eye-catching flower ball of the night. The crowd surged in that direction like a tide. Li Daoyi grabbed Li Daoan, who wanted to watch the fun, protecting him behind his broad back. No matter how the surrounding crowd pushed and shoved, he stood as steady as Mount Tai.</narration><action>He tilted his head slightly, his gaze passing over the crowding heads, casually glancing in that direction.</action><narration>Suddenly, that flower ball traced a strange arc in mid-air.</narration><action>There was a muffled "thud."</action><narration>It was the sound of a soft, heavy object landing squarely against firm chest muscles.</narration><action>Li Daoyi's body, trained in martial arts for years, reacted instinctively. Before the object could slide down his chest and fall to the ground, his left hand, covered in scars and calluses, lunged forward and caught it firmly in mid-air.</action><narration>The surrounding clamor seemed to have been paused at this very moment. The crowd, which had been pushing and shoving a second ago, instantly fell silent upon seeing who had caught the flower ball, even taking half a step back in unison to leave a bizarre empty circle. Li Daoan, holding half a stick of candied hawthorns, had his mouth wide open, staring at his older brother in utter shock.</narration><action>Li Daoyi maintained his posture of catching the object with one hand. He slowly lowered his head, looking down at his palm.</action><narration>It was an extremely exquisitely embroidered flower ball. Made of bright red silk with tassels hanging from the bottom, it lay quietly in his rough, large hand—a hand capable of crushing an enemy's throat—looking incredibly out of place yet carrying an absurd brilliance. He was stunned.</narration><action>He raised his head, following the trajectory from which the flower ball had flown, and looked beyond the crowd.</action><message>“……”</message><narration>His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He wanted to say something, but not a single word would come out. The "Junshan Silver Needle" scent, which had been locked deep inside his body for years, actually leaked a trace of barely perceptible, slightly bitter warmth belonging to spring mountains from the depths of his scent gland due to this sudden turn of events.</narration><action>Clutching the flower ball in his hand, Li Daoyi froze in place, his gaze colliding directly with that other set of eyes across the bustling crowd.</action>