The warm, moist air was filled with a faint scent of herbs and wood.
Lü Bu and Xiao Meng sat together in silence, sharing the same space. It was as if, for them, this was enough.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, passing through the screen, scattering flecks of light onto Xiao Meng’s sweat-dampened face. Xiao Meng gazed at the peonies embroidered in gold and silver thread on the thin silk screen, shining brilliantly in the gentle daylight from outside.
Truly beautiful...
What Xiao Meng was really watching, though, was the silhouette behind the screen.
That person now sat facing the window, separated by the gleaming peonies, bathed in sunlight and veiled in steamy mist. In that moment, he seemed to become a radiant, otherworldly figure, a silhouette like a deity.
Xiao Meng found himself transfixed.
During his time with Lü Bu, Xiao Meng had developed a habit: whenever they were together and Lü Bu’s back was turned, he would gaze at his silhouette with almost reckless abandon.
Xiao Meng felt a bit uneasy, because ever since he woke up, Lü Bu’s attitude toward him seemed to have changed.
Though he was still just as attentive—perhaps even more gentle than before—the previous relaxed warmth from their time in the farmhouse was gone. His tone remained gentle, but the smile was missing from his eyes.
Xiao Meng felt that, even though Lü Bu hadn’t scolded him, he was truly angry.
In fact, the more Xiao Meng thought about it, the more he hated himself: they had agreed to meet in the palace, but he had stubbornly insisted on going to rescue Sima Lang alone.
It was true that Lü Bu would never have agreed to the rescue, but was that a reason to leave without a word?
When it came to cunning and strategy, he was no match for Lü Bu. If he had waited and told Lü Bu the situation, perhaps Lü Bu would have realized it was a trap.
In the end, he really did cause trouble, and if Lü Bu hadn’t arrived in time to save him, given the situation, even with Fire-ge there, he would never have been able to kill Sima Lang. He would likely have either died from his wounds or gone mad.
Afterward, Lü Bu had rushed to save him, treated his wounds, and yet Xiao Meng had treated him so poorly... Xiao Meng lowered his head, his delicate fists clenched in the medicinal water.
"Lü Bu, I’m... really sorry!" Xiao Meng finally broke the silence with a trembling voice.
Lü Bu, still facing away, remained calm. "You’ve already apologized. If you mean about rescuing Sima Lang, I don’t blame you." He paused, then added, "After I killed Xiahou Dun, I learned that Sima Lang’s situation was Jia Xu’s scheme. When I saw you in the palace, I didn’t warn you in time. That was my own mistake—otherwise, you wouldn’t have ended up in such danger. I should be the one to apologize."
This had weighed on Lü Bu’s heart all along.
"But... in the end, it was my own stubbornness that led me to a wrong decision. And... after I woke up, you’ve been mad at me, haven’t you...?" Xiao Meng’s voice grew softer and softer.
Lü Bu still heard every word.
"It’s not anger... it’s fear..." Lü Bu’s voice was barely audible.
Then he said nothing more.
Xiao Meng didn’t know what to say. They lapsed into silence once again.
Yes, Lü Bu had never in his life been so afraid.
Because that night, he knew he really might lose Xiao Meng forever.
That night, when he finally found Xiao Meng again and saw his wounds, Lü Bu’s first instinct was to scoop him up and leave at once.
He knew Xiao Meng’s injuries couldn’t wait, but Xiao Meng insisted on killing Sima Lang with his own hands. Lü Bu’s instincts told him that if he didn’t go along, Xiao Meng might truly break down.
When he finally managed to take him away, Xiao Meng wouldn’t let him touch him. Lü Bu could only coax and soothe him, but in his heart he was lost—Xiao Meng’s hysteria had only made him bleed faster, and Lü Bu was barely able to stop it.
When he thought Xiao Meng had finally calmed down, that he’d pulled his beloved back from death’s door, he never expected that Xiao Meng would try to end his own life!
Fortunately, he was quick enough to stop him just in time.
The pain in his right hand was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.
Though he’d staved off death and stopped the bleeding, Xiao Meng fell into a coma. His pulse and breathing grew weaker.
He was no doctor, but he had a strong sense that if things continued, Xiao Meng would either die or never wake up again.
Even when facing the death of his own child, he’d never felt so helpless and afraid.
Maybe everything had happened too fast, too suddenly, for him to process his emotions in the moment—even though the grief and guilt afterward were endless.
But that night, while Xiao Meng was unconscious, Lü Bu felt himself being slowly tortured by helplessness and fear, with nowhere to escape.
Lü Bu made the difficult decision to leave Xiao Meng here and go into the city for Hua Tuo.
Fortunately, Hua Tuo was the finest physician of the age, and he cared for Xiao Meng as well. Lü Bu went straight to his residence, explained the situation, and Hua Tuo came without hesitation. With several rounds of acupuncture, Hua Tuo gradually stabilized Xiao Meng’s pulse.
After that, caring for Xiao Meng’s wounds and preparing medicine was a matter of course.
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It wasn’t until Xiao Meng cried out this morning—finally waking—that Lü Bu felt as if his heart, which had been dangling over a cliff, had finally returned to his chest.
Thinking of this, Lü Bu almost felt like crying.
But he chose not to tell Xiao Meng about the storms he’d weathered these past two days and nights.
He understood Xiao Meng—his pride was stronger than anyone’s, and he was quick to blame himself. Lü Bu didn’t want Xiao Meng to bear any unnecessary psychological burden.
At this moment, Xiao Meng heard Lü Bu sigh softly.
Xiao Meng heard the sigh, but remained silent.
He felt uneasy and anxious, wanting to say something to break the silence, but couldn’t think of anything suitable.
He’d already apologized and expressed his gratitude. He didn’t think Lü Bu wanted to hear it again.
He’s sighing...
Xiao Meng wanted to say something comforting, but didn’t know what Lü Bu’s sigh meant. He felt so troubled that he nearly sighed himself, but managed to hold it in.
The silence thickened in the air.
"...Xiao Meng..." Lü Bu finally broke the silence.
"Mm?"
Xiao Meng responded brightly and attentively, his "mm" full of "What do you want to say? I’m listening!"
He realized that, in their relationship, Lü Bu was always the one to respond to him, even in a stalemate, always the first to break the ice. This thought made Xiao Meng’s heart grow even fonder.
"...There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you."
Lü Bu called his name, paused for a long moment, and finally spoke again.
"What is it?" Xiao Meng’s tone was open and sincere—"Ask me anything. I’ll answer everything I know!"
After all this time together, it was rare for Lü Bu to sound so hesitant.
Xiao Meng watched Lü Bu closely, eyes sharp as a marksman’s, catching every little movement.
He saw Lü Bu take a deep breath, hesitate again, then finally summon his courage for a third try—
"That day, at White Gate Tower, seeing me like that... did you think I was pathetic...?"
Xiao Meng knew Lü Bu was talking about the day after Xiapi fell, when he was dragged before White Gate Tower to await Cao Cao’s judgment.
Since their reunion, they’d often talked late into the night, Lü Bu sharing stories of his military career, his life in Bingzhou, the unique local cultures; Xiao Meng telling tales of palace intrigue, terrifying secrets of the cold palace, and the extravagance of the ancient Sima clan.
Both found each other’s stories fascinating.
They’d even talked about their first encounter in Luoyang, but always seemed to skip over the days in Xiapi—though that was when they first spent time together.
Only once, after Lü Bu was overwhelmed by a nightmare about his child’s tragic death, did they mention Xiapi for the first time.
Now, thanks to Lü Bu’s question, they had to recall that unbearable day.
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That day, snow flew across the sky, but the crowd in the square kept growing, undeterred by the cold—they all wanted to witness the "final moments" of the God of War.
At last, the "star" appeared.
"Among horses, Red Hare; among men, Lü Bu."
Lü Bu was no ordinary warlord or general. In those days, even the lowest laborer had heard of Lü Bu.
To soldiers, whatever side they fought for, the God of War held a unique, supreme place in their minds. Even if they scorned his character and actions, that never changed.
Now Lü Bu was defeated—how would the God of War face defeat and death?
Every soldier was curious, eager to witness this extraordinary moment.
But what they saw was not just disappointment, but a sense of loss.
As Lü Bu was dragged across the square, he could be heard loudly begging for mercy.
The crowd erupted into uproar, discussing heatedly.
"They say Lü Bu is invincible, but turns out he’s just afraid to die. What a letdown."
"Right?"
"Is this really Lü Bu? I’d heard he was brave but not smart, but I never imagined he’d be such a coward!"
Far away, Xiao Meng watched it all.
He saw a bold soldier rush forward, kicking the kneeling Lü Bu to the ground and berating him, "Look at you! Aren’t you ashamed? You call yourself a warrior—where’s your dignity?"
The soldier pointed at Lü Bu with scorn and anger.
"You’re so afraid to die—how can you face Gao Shun and Chen Gong, who died rather than surrender? How can you face the soldiers who fought and died for you?"
The crowd fell silent, waiting for the God of War’s response.
Soon, a hoarse, low voice broke the silence.
"...Elder brother... your lesson is right... Lü Bu is just a brute... only knows weapons, never understood honor... today, your teaching has opened my eyes..."
No one could believe their ears—that such words could come from a man once invincible on the battlefield.
Emboldened by the absurdity, the soldier stepped forward and stomped Lü Bu’s head.
"Bah! Who are you to call me brother?"
The soldier pointed at himself, a twisted grin on his face. "Listen up, I’m your grandfather! Call me right and maybe I’ll teach you!"
The snow fell harder.
"......"
"...Gra... Grandfather..."
The crowd exploded.
"Wow, he actually called him that..."
"Grandfather, spare me..." Lü Bu said again.
"My god—is this really Lü Bu...!?"
"Hilarious!"
"The God of War Lü Bu?! Bah!"
"Lü Bu’s a beast! Even as your grandfather, I can’t teach you!"
The soldier who had humiliated Lü Bu burst out laughing.
"...Ha ha... Elder brother is right, a beast must be trained slowly..."
Amid the laughter, that hoarse voice once again plunged the crowd into silence.
Lü Bu, knocked to the ground, struggled to kneel upright.
"I am unworthy—please, grandfathers, spare me..."
He didn’t just say it—he kowtowed desperately.
"I beg you all... grandfathers, spare my life!"
"I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!"
"Please, grandfathers... let this brute live a little longer, let me learn more..."
Only the sound of frantic kowtowing echoed through the square.
The crowd, first excited by the farce, now grew silent—instead, a sense of loss and confusion set in, even a bit of discomfort.
Everyone just wanted it to end quickly.
Xiao Meng saw it all.
This was another knot in Lü Bu’s heart.
That day, as he begged for his life, he was certain Xiao Meng had already escaped Xiapi. He hadn’t seen him for two days before the city fell.
That Xiao Meng had left without saying goodbye was expected—Lü Bu felt both disappointment and relief.
But, just as he’d resigned himself to death, he heard the whistling of arrows and knew Xiao Meng was still there. In that moment, he felt an indescribable joy, even knowing Xiao Meng wasn’t there for him.
When that fateful arrow slashed his arm—he felt a release and satisfaction he’d never known.
Even if all he had was that one arrow—it meant Xiao Meng had not let him down.
Lü Bu had always thought that gratitude to heaven or anyone else was for the mediocre.
He believed only the ruthless survived, only the strong could stand.
But after reuniting and living with Xiao Meng, Lü Bu felt every day was a gift from heaven; especially after saving Xiao Meng this time, he truly felt this miracle was a blessing from the gods.
In these days spent together, Lü Bu understood Xiao Meng’s feelings for him.
But any normal man would never want his beloved to see his lowest, most humiliating moment.
Least of all Lü Bu.
He could face the world’s scorn and curses with a cold stare. The only opinion that truly mattered was Xiao Meng’s.
Every time he remembered that Xiao Meng had seen him debase himself so, he felt anxious and unsettled.
Honestly, if Lü Bu had known at the time that Xiao Meng was there, hiding somewhere close, he would never have begged for mercy that way.
Even though Lü Bu still believed only a fool would throw away his life, he would have rather "died a hero."
All because... even heroes are helpless in the face of their beloved.
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End of Chapter 29
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The Burning Dream Chronicle Chapter 29: "Bathhouse Conversation"32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡroH2HY5rPi
Original work by Jing Xixian (Vampire L), all rights reserved.32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0EJoqbdtjr
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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