Ah—!
Xiao Meng jolted awake and sat up suddenly. The abrupt movement sent pain shooting from his wounds.
He gathered himself and carefully examined his condition. His injuries, including the deep gash on his thigh, had all been properly bandaged.
At that moment, the enticing aroma of food caught Xiao Meng’s attention.
Steady footsteps approached from afar.
The door creaked open.
"Xiao Meng, did you have a nightmare?"
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Lü Bu was carrying a tray, on which sat a steaming bowl of rice porridge. "Look at you! Soaked as if you’d just been fished out of a river. What kind of terrible nightmare did you have?"
Lü Bu set the food on the table in the bedroom, then turned to look at Xiao Meng, frowning at the sight of him drenched in sweat. His voice was even more concerned.
Lü Bu went over to a cabinet to fetch something, and only then did Xiao Meng realize he was completely unclothed except for the white bandages around his wounds. Instantly, his cheeks flushed hot.
Lü Bu returned, holding a clean cloth.
"No..." Xiao Meng’s heart raced, and he managed to utter a single word.
"Come, let me wipe your sweat or you’ll catch a chill. In your condition, you cannot afford to get sick."
Lü Bu interjected, his tone gentle but with an undercurrent of authority—an order that could not be refused. Xiao Meng wanted to say, "No need, I can do it myself," but then he noticed Lü Bu’s right hand, which was also bandaged, clearly injured.
Only then did he suddenly recall what had happened before he lost consciousness.
Lü Bu had tried to tend his wounds, but Xiao Meng had lashed out uncontrollably, even slapped him, refusing to be touched.
In the end, he’d been coaxed into lying down, and Lü Bu had cared for him with utmost patience while he himself fell into self-pity. In a rush of emotion, he’d tried to end his own life with a throwing dart—thankfully, Lü Bu had blocked it with his palm just in time. Otherwise, he would have died.
At that time, his mind had been muddled. He only remembered the heat around his head and neck, as if a lot of blood had been spilled, but he’d felt no pain—because it was Lü Bu’s palm that had bled.
Thinking of this, Xiao Meng was overcome with guilt, losing even the courage to "resist," and so said nothing more, letting Lü Bu gently wipe the sweat from his face, hair, shoulders, and back, then drape a thick robe over him.
He noticed a brazier burning in the corner, its embers glowing red. No wonder it was so warm inside, despite the autumn weather.
He felt his own heart, too, was glowing like the brazier.
Once finished, Lü Bu took the porridge from the table, brought it over, and sat down on a chair by the bed.
"Eat up, before it gets cold," Lü Bu said softly, scooping up a spoonful and bringing it to Xiao Meng’s lips. "You... don’t have to feed me. My hands work fine, I can do it myself." Xiao Meng felt embarrassed.
It was true—his arms had a few scrapes, but nothing that hurt now. He really didn’t want to be spoon-fed like a child.
But Lü Bu shot him a look and said sternly, "Even if I’m not feeding you, I’m still going to sit right here and watch until you finish eating. How boring would that be for me? So I might as well feed you."
Xiao Meng was stunned. While Lü Bu spoke as if about himself, Xiao Meng could hear the reprimand in his tone.
Lü Bu must be afraid I’ll try to hurt myself again...
Xiao Meng felt like a child who’d gotten into trouble, facing a father who was struggling not to scold him, though he was clearly upset.
"Alright..."
Caught between confusion and guilt, Xiao Meng obediently opened his mouth.
"You know, you were unconscious for two whole nights."
After a few bites, Lü Bu began to speak.
"What! That long?!" Xiao Meng was truly shocked.
"What? Did you really think you were only slightly injured?" Lü Bu let out a bitter laugh. "While you were unconscious, Hua Tuo came to see you. He said your thigh injury was very severe, the tendon was damaged, and you’d lost a lot of blood. If I hadn’t found you in time, even if you hadn’t died, your leg would have been crippled."
Lü Bu recounted this calmly, but his voice grew more somber.
"......" Xiao Meng listened, secretly alarmed.
It was that serious!
He was surprised Lü Bu had even called Hua Tuo. "Doctor Hua... is in Xuchang too?"
"Yes, he came to Xuchang with Cao Cao, and has a clinic on the city’s busiest street. His residence is there too. I learned his location the first day I arrived. Seems Cao Cao really does treat him well," Lü Bu explained.
Back then, Hua Tuo had stayed in Xiapi for a while, but later Lü Bu discovered he was a spy for Cao Cao and had him tied up. Xiao Meng had promised to assassinate Cao Cao to persuade Lü Bu to spare Hua Tuo.
"...Sorry... I... caused you so much trouble..." Xiao Meng murmured.
He was not one to say those words, but he couldn’t help apologizing to Lü Bu.
Lü Bu looked at him but didn’t directly respond to the apology. "Hua Tuo also said you need to focus on recovery these days until you’re completely healed. If your tendons don’t fully mend, you may have trouble walking in the future." Lü Bu’s tone was serious.
Xiao Meng sighed inwardly. Sigh... So saying sorry really is useless.
After that, they both fell silent. Lü Bu fed Xiao Meng spoon by spoon, and Xiao Meng ate bite by bite, a quiet understanding between them.
The fire in the corner warmed the room’s peaceful atmosphere.
Xiao Meng was surprised by how at ease he felt in the silence. He quickly accepted being a "fed child." It was a new experience for him.
He had forgotten everything before he was six. Even after entering the palace, though his foster fathers pampered and raised him as a treasure, he was already past the age where he needed help with everything. In that environment, any child had to mature quickly and learn to read people’s moods to survive and keep their fathers happy.
But in this moment, Lü Bu was like a father, caring for a "child" who couldn’t even feed himself.
And he, as an adult, was experiencing childhood for the first time.
It was a magical feeling.
Though he’d never had such an experience, and even if he had, he’d forgotten.
But Lü Bu... he must have fed his own child this way before...
His child... a father...
Xiao Meng couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Lü Bu, but this time their eyes didn’t meet. Lü Bu wasn’t looking at him.
Lü Bu’s eyes were lowered, as if watching Xiao Meng’s nose or mouth, but his gaze was distant, lost in some long-ago memory...
Xiao Meng felt a jolt in his heart.
He had never seen Lü Bu look so gentle.
Indeed, since Lü Bu had rescued him at the Sima estate, he’d been nothing but kind, always gentle, always looking at Xiao Meng with a warm smile. It was hard to connect him to the Lü Bu of Luoyang, the legendary warlord, or the desperate fighter from Xiapi.
But even so, nothing compared to this moment. Now, Lü Bu radiated...
Parental love.
Suddenly, Xiao Meng had a powerful urge to throw himself into Lü Bu’s arms, to bury his face in his chest and rub against him...
At that moment, the bowl was empty.
Seeing Xiao Meng finish the porridge, Lü Bu placed the bowl and spoon back on the tray and handed Xiao Meng a cup of warm water. Xiao Meng took it and gulped it down.
Lü Bu smiled with a frown, "Drink slowly... Was it really that bad?"
He had no idea how stirred Xiao Meng’s feelings had been a moment ago—he thought Xiao Meng was just washing down bad-tasting porridge.
"It wasn’t bad at all! It was delicious!" Xiao Meng said, smiling up at Lü Bu.
That smile, as beautiful as a blossom, made Lü Bu’s heart stir, though his face showed nothing.
"Alright, things should be ready by now. Let’s go," Lü Bu said.
"What did you prepare? Where are we going?" Xiao Meng asked, curious.
Lü Bu walked over, pulled back the covers, and lifted Xiao Meng from the bed, answering simply, "Bathhouse."
End of Chapter 27
Copyright Notice:
The Burning Dream Chronicle Chapter 27: "Childhood"40Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3cycEdJuiq
Original work by Jing Xixian (King Heyin)(Vampire L), all rights reserved.40Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF5GIDR4Zk4
No part of this work may be reproduced, adapted, copied, translated, or used commercially in any form without written permission from the author.
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