Those audacious thieves who had smuggled into Lower Egypt scattered like husband-and-wife birds facing imminent disaster, each fleeing for their own lives. However, when they tried to turn their backs to the soldiers and quickly roll down the western hillside, they despairingly discovered that the foot of the hill was already densely packed with soldiers waiting for the thieves to deliver themselves into the net.
In this desperate and anxious waiting, they were helpless, stranded on the flat ground of the hillside, pessimistically listening to the approaching footsteps of death.
They only wanted to secretly dig up the Forget-Worry herb that was a favorite among Assyrian nobility; they never anticipated that Lower Egypt would deploy such a massive show of force, practically mobilizing the entire army.
One of the thieves was forced to his knees by a soldier’s iron-hard knee, his hands bound together behind his back. The sharp tip of a spear was poised under his chin in threat, as if awaiting the officer’s command to skewer his head and play a ball game with it!
This iron army swept through the temporary camp, almost turning the entire hilltop upside down.
How much had they dug?
Lower Egypt definitely had more than just that one field planted of Forget-Worry herb, and they had only taken a tiny portion from it…
With this kind of show, anyone who didn’t know better would think they had kidnapped the Red King’s queen!
But in fact, it was just that one of their members had unknowingly brought back a stray cat that belonged to who-knows-who.
Perhaps it was a pet kept by some noble in the court, but they hadn’t had time to do anything to the cat. Besides, the cat had been sneezing constantly, and they had even shared a piece of jerky with it…
So, perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope, since the cat was alive and completely unharmed!
Exquisitely crafted shoes, edged with countless thin gold pieces and lapis lazuli, stepped on the dry flat ground. Each step was powerful and clear, crushing the fine gravel beneath. The sand and stones seemed to let out unwilling, agonized wails like tormented souls from below.
The thief kneeling on the ground was drenched in cold sweat. He cautiously raised his gaze from the ground upwards.
The Pharaoh of Lower Egypt was very young when he inherited the throne. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a narrow waist. His powerful arms, adorned with gold armlets and ivory bracelets, clinked softly with each step, the muscles in his forearms taut and defined.
He had emerged from that tent. Perhaps he went to retrieve the cat, right?
Wrong, wrong!
Would holding a cat require such strength?
The brilliant red light of the rising sun spilled over the entire hillside. A long wind whistled, flying across the sky and mingling with the wild geese.
Shamule stepped into the light, his tall shadow cast behind him.
The thief finally saw it: cradled in the Red King’s arms, which glinted with gold jewelry, was a slender human form, completely wrapped in a very large, dark blue cloak.
The wind blew, and from beneath the dark blue, silver strands cascaded down softly.
Even without seeing the true face, just by the smooth silver hair and the outline of the figure, one could tell this was a rare beauty.
Why was she found in their camp?!
Which one of them had managed to steal the Red King’s Ankh?!
The thief shuddered all over and collapsed limply to the ground.
Only after the Red King emerged did the soldiers enter the tent. The searched-out cloth sacks filled with Forget-Worry herb came to a total of ten.
The sacks lay spilled on the ground, their openings revealing the strange purple plant. The culprits had been caught red-handed with the stolen goods.
Someone holding the captured thieves asked for instructions, “Your Majesty?”
Shamule did not spare them a glance, and his tone was cold, “Deal with them.”
…….
Shamule didn’t know how to describe it. When the changing patrol guard approached him just before dawn to report that the Divine Envoy’s robes had been found in the Forget-Worry field.
He clenched the robe tightly and rushed to the Meret Palace, and indeed found Ankh’s figure missing.
A rare light rain fell in the latter half of the night, and the moistened field was filled with traces of chaotic footsteps.
Uraeus slowly crawled out from the depths of the Forget-Worry herbs, hissed its red tongue at him, then crawled away into the distance. After a moment, it looked back at him as if urging or waiting for something.
With a gloomy face, Shamule mobilized the palace army.
When he found Xin Hexue, the Divine Envoy was naked, his flawless white body hidden deep in a corner, like a statue that had fallen from its divine pedestal, dusted with the grime of the mortal world.
Shamule’s gaze swept over the simple and chaotic conditions inside the tent, and his broad shoulders and back tightened silently. His heart felt as if it was being squeezed, aching with a sour pain. The air in the tent stagnated, robbing all breath.
A chill crept over the Red King’s body like a snake.
To Xin Hexue’s surprise, Shamule ultimately didn’t say anything.
The dark blue cloak he had brought with him flew in the air before Xin Hexue’s eyes before enveloping him.
Xin Hexue sneezed again, pressed down within the cloak. He hadn’t slept for half the night and was too drowsy to speak.
To be honest, it was a very embarrassing situation.
“Bastet’s Blessing” had a time limit. Even one minute ago, he was a cat.
Then, just like the clock striking twelve and the beautiful princess left a glass slipper at the palace, turning back into Cinderella, his transformation was even more extreme: all the clothes he had as a human had been left behind in the field.
When Shamule entered, the little cat had not yet had time to ask K to retrieve a single piece of clothing from the system space.
Although he was sometimes accustomed to treating his own body as a utilizable resource, just like knowing which angles made him look most perfect in a given atmosphere, and he used everything to achieve his goals, this led to a lack of shame regarding nudity.
But the premise for all this was that it was his own deliberate choice, like the situation yesterday when he was testing Shamule.
If nudity was unnecessary, he was still quite receptive to the conditions imposed by human civilization regarding exposing the body. In other words, his nudity had principles. Once it exceeded the scope of his principles, suppressed shame would rebound on him tenfold.
Under this contradictory psychology, Xin Hexue disliked having any mirrors or mirror-like objects present when making love, and he did not allow anyone to excessively praise his body.
Beneath the cloak, he silently curled his toes, the nails filled with pink.
“I’m sleepy.”
Xin Hexue leaned against Shamule’s chest, closed his eyes, and began to pretend to sleep.
……
Xin Hexue let out a light cough.
His heavy eyelids lacked any strength to open. He felt a sudden immersion in warm water, and the liquid rushed over to envelop him. Then he felt himself being transferred to a bed.
It was probably still daytime because his eyelids registered an orange-red color from outside.
Someone was licking him over and over, with a meticulousness no less than a big cat grooming a kitten, not even sparing his **.
‘… Could you please not be so perverted?’
“Stop…”
Choking on a breath, Xin Hexue suddenly coughed. His heavy eyelids, which seemed to be glued shut, managed to open with this burst of effort. He gasped for air in big mouthfuls, as if emerging from a state of suffocation.
Shamule stared at him intently, spitting out the words with difficulty, one by one, “Awake?”
His golden hair was like a lion’s mane, unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot, with some dark circles beneath them.
Xin Hexue subconsciously looked towards the window. A dim orange-red hue spread over the river surface. The Nile silently flowed forward, towards the sun which was now only a half-circle.
It was evening?
Had he slept that long?
Shamule guessed his thoughts. “You have been unconscious for two days and one night. It is now evening of the second day.”
His gloomy pupils fixed on him. “Why did you go to the medicine field?” His voice could no longer be described as merely gloomy; it was like a venomous snake hissing, a sinister madness churning, tangibly transforming into a crimson forked tongue. Where his gaze fell, the tongue licked every inch of Xin Hexue’s skin.
“What happened to me?”
Xin Hexue avoided answering Shamule’s question, countering with a question of his own.
His attitude undoubtedly angered the man. Shamule held Xin Hexue’s jaw, his knee pressing hard against the edge of the bed. The distance between them became infinitely close. “Answer me! Why did you go to the medicine field? What did you want to know?”
Xin Hexue still did not answer. He sensed the suppressed madness in Shamule’s eyes and decided this was not a good time for conversation. So, staring at him unblinkingly, he calmly stated his request: “I want some water.”
Their eyes clashed in the air, complete with lightning and sparks.
After a moment of stalemate, Shamule retreated. He walked stiffly to fetch a cup of water for Xin Hexue.
Having moistened his throat, and buying time with this action, Xin Hexue had thought of a response. He held the porcelain cup with both hands. “I just wanted to try to care about you. I heard them say the plant there is called the Forget-Worry herb. Sometimes you don’t look very happy, and your brows furrow together…”
“Caring about me?” His words instantly touched Shamule’s reverse scale. The Red King pounced on him and pressed him down onto the bed. The porcelain cup fell from his hand onto the floor, shattering into pieces with a crash. Shamule braced his hands on either side of Xin Hexue, grinding out each word through clenched teeth, “You don’t understand at all!”
It seemed this was an extremely harmful plant. Xin Hexue observed Shamule’s expression.
Shamule’s expression was pained, and there was a faint red lurking in the depths of his eyes. “You don’t understand me at all, and you have never wanted to understand me! The way you look at me has never been like the way I look at you…!”
Suddenly, Xin Hexue sighed. He reached out to touch the lion’s bristling mane. “If you don’t tell me, how can I understand you? How can I respond to your love for me?”
Shamule hesitated. “You want to respond to my love?”
Having received Xin Hexue’s affirmation, he instead pushed himself up, creating distance. “You’d better not know. Otherwise, you will be frightened, you will stay away, you will think I am an incurable madman, and fear what kind of self-immolating ugly soul lies beneath this skin.”
Shamule uncharacteristically displayed the inferiority that comes after a scar is picked open, his expression gloomy. “You would not love such a person.”
So from the very beginning, Shamule had held no hope. He knew what kind of person he was. He did not expect the Divine Envoy’s love; he only needed to receive hatred, and that was enough.
Xin Hexue felt he was close enough to the truth, but still needed to break through the final obstacle, to make Shamule lay his heart bare before him without reservation, to expose the old scars to him completely without holding back.
A light kiss fell silently on Shamule’s jaw.
This was the first time Xin Hexue had taken the initiative to kiss him.
Shamule’s Adam’s apple moved.
Xin Hexue went to take his hand, but found Shamule’s right hand tightly clenched and unyielding. Only after applying some force did Shamule relax his grip.
A jade ring lay in his palm. Having been clenched for a long time, it had taken on the body’s warmth and was moist with warm sweat.
“Is this for me?”
Xin Hexue’s tone held some surprise, and if one listened closely, there was also a hint of delight. He picked up the carnelian ring.
It was a pair with the one on Shamule’s finger. His name was engraved on the inner band.
Carefully sliding it onto the ring finger of his left hand, Xin Hexue raised his hand, palm facing in, back of the hand facing out, and looked at Shamule. “Hmm… does it look good?”
His hand was like a snowy branch on a mountain peak in the Sinai Peninsula, narrow, slender, with distinct knuckles. A circle of vivid red locked firmly on the ring finger, a beauty that was dazzling.
Shamule knew that Xin Hexue was only deceiving him.
But he had already been tricked into falling into this river before him, this river that would make him walk in naked, baring all his flesh and blood without reservation.
People named it the River of Love, but Shamule felt he was about to drown in it, excessive happiness was washing over every sense of his.
People are always eager to pursue happiness, but when they truly hold it in their hands, they feel complete fear. Opening oneself completely to accept happiness is much more difficult than enduring pain.
At this moment, Shamule would rather endure the pain brought by the fragrance of the Forget-Worry herb.
“The Forget-Worry herb…” he began hoarsely. “Initially, it was a sacred object bestowed upon this land by the gods. It brought comfort to the Egyptians, brought them boundless strength, and brought them steadfast minds. But in the end, it…”
“It destroyed the Egyptians.”
