Past the gate, Tao Hua entered. He was first, with Shan Si following behind.
Only for a moment did he stop to admire the gate—well, admiring wasn't really the correct word. He was inspecting it.
When comparing this gate to the rest of the town, it wasn't nearly as ordinary. This statement, however, only had one purpose, and that purpose was to venture the path that brought one to the great Tao Estate.
A passage and a reminder to every citizen of how strong and necessary Master Tao was, and without him they'd be nothing.
The gate was tall, clean, and orderly. Not a piece of it was out of place, nor did the wood show any sign of rot. Though grander than most buildings in Siyue Town, the South Gate wasn't as steep as the gate that led to Zhonglai's official road, but it did maintain an air of great esteem.
Arguably, it was a cheap product trying to pass as the entrance to an imperial palace. Such should be looked down upon, but not a single official from the Imperial Capital ever gave a shit about this small, unimportant town.
Therefore, Master Tao got away with the mimicry, and rather easily, too.
Tao Hua had always thought his father could have put more effort into making it match Siyue Town's aesthetic.
Alas, it would have fallen on deaf ears, regardless of how Tao Hua worded it. The crimson, gold, and vibrant blue just looked more like an eyesore when sat next to the rickety old buildings, doused in grey, muted red.
Crack.
The sound broke Tao Hua out of his trance. He looked down, lifting his foot sideways. Under it were pieces of broken brick; the remnants crumbling off the fabric of his boot. This was practically a statement about the maintenance of Siyue Town and how poor the town truly was.
But Tao Hua just shook off the bits, watching as they skipped along each crack, crevice, and clutter of the moonlit town. It was truly a mess, but not nearly as ugly as it would have been during the day.
There wasn't a soul in sight. That made it all the more tolerable to Tao Hua, and perhaps even had an air of unspoken elegance. An old-timey-type, typically found when wandering abandoned villages.
He inhaled a waft of that humid, warm air, nearly spitting it out as if it were a poorly stirred bowl of tea.
Disgusting. Nearly everything within the dingy walls of this town felt disgusting to him, no matter how quiet.
As he was brushing off the remaining dust from his boot, the sound of casual steps approached him. When he glimpsed sideways, he saw a pair of black leather boots, matched with a faded gold fabric swaying ever-so-lightly. That gold faded into black, and as darkness engulfed the fabric, so would the expression that adorned it so handsomely.
It was the last thing Tao Hua wanted to see. Even less than this rotten town.
Shan Si, examining the town, laughed. As usual, that laugh of his wasn't amused, and held traces of judgment. "You'd think for a man so well received by his people, he'd put some of that cost into the town's reparations. This is pitiful."
Looking away, Tao Hua just continued to clean his boots. He was still in a bad mood and refused to answer Shan Si. As soon as he stomped the foot to the ground, shaking off whatever was left, he moved forward instead of entertaining the confusing man.
Shan Si, raising his brows and placing a hand on his hip, watched Tao Hua. His lips curled a bit, and his hair shifted. Each strand fell off his shoulder the more he leaned his head closer to this shoulder.
"Don't you think, Tao Hua?"
Still nothing.
"Hm."
Shan Si tilted his head the other way. He decided to follow, quickly reaching behind Tao Hua, and whatever his intentions, Tao Hua didn't care to know. To him, it was better for the two if they rushed through that town without a word.
Shan Si stood close by, regardless of Tao Hua's temper tantrum. His pale eyes casually scanned the deathly quiet street, finally falling on the thing that attracted the lantern's warm light.
As if those very flames were a moth, they lit up Tao Hua vibrantly.
However, Tao Hua was anything but vibrant.
With each negative thought, his eyes would clamp shut, and his hands would rise. They ruffled his hair, each rummage threatening to mat and tangle it the longer he ruminated. None of his coping mechanisms, the ones he'd practised for years, worked. Each time he'd try, they'd just run amok and ram straight back to the problem that stood nearby.
Thus, he'd unknowingly mumble a few frustrated, inaudible words, alongside a few childish whines.
His mind was far too disorderly to administer any attention to Shan Si, and it fumed with intense emotions; far too many to explain.
Truth be told, he was struggling terribly with understanding this man who stood close, but acted distant. From his motives, to the words he'd say and how they refused to acknowledge his actions. One moment he was playful and said all the right things to rile Tao Hua up, and then when Tao Hua tried to return it, he'd switch.
It was a false safety he'd never experienced, not once in his sad life.
Exhaustion; that was a better word. And that exhaustion was evident in the bags that formed under Tao Hua's eyes. He was tired—of Shan Si's moodiness, his father, the town...and most of all, he was simply tired of existing.
It was truly a sad revelation, one that could have finally made him cry had it not been for a heavy weight placed on his back. Eyes widened, he shook off such pitiful desires and instead turned his head to find the source of this pressure.
Of course.
Tao Hua's eyes flattened.
It was Shan Si; who else would it have been? He was looking down at Tao Hua with an expression that was no more amused than it was annoyed.
So, Tao Hua reached up, swatting away the arm. It was only half-effective.
"Trying to make noise or something? Appeal to someone?" Shan Si asked, pushing his hand further against Tao Hua's back and reaching for the collar of his robe. "Your moans can practically be heard from a few hundred feet away."
Tao Hua's vision sharpened, enough to forget tears even existed in this small body. In exchange, the sorrow-filled reaction was now flushed, his ears turning a new shade entirely. He ripped his body away from Shan Si, hopping a few steps free of this menace.
Clamping his lips tightly, he hastened each step and darted forward.
Unnecessary! he thought, his arms straightened at his sides, making his walking both wobbly and awkward, more than humanly possible. But no matter his speed, Shan Si hadn't struggled to keep up—walking normally, or even slow.
And the entire time they strolled through that small stretch of a town, Shan Si acted peculiar. He had tried to spark a comment here and there, attempting to engage Tao Hua in conversation.
None of it was received, garnering him zero attention. But that didn't bother the tall behemoth of a beast; he simply carried on as if it were another beautiful day.
This king was finding enjoyment in the jester's reluctance, so to speak.
Amid the annoyance, Tao Hua suddenly stopped, which prompted Shan Si to follow in his footsteps. Of course, this was more of an obstruction than it was needed, so Shan Si just said, "What's the hold? The gate is literally right there--"
But Tao Hua didn't listen. The corners of his eyes stung, wholeheartedly fixated on the building nearby. It was smaller than most, in absolute disrepair, with a sign both worn and hanging by the rusty excuse of chains.
That sign read: "The Bookstore."
Chapter end.