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“Drifting in a boat, sometimes sinking, sometimes afloat. Now that I have met the gentleman, my heart is at rest.”28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaGh5kARYcH
—The Book of Songs, Minor Odes, “Luxuriant Is the Oatgrass”
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As dusk fell, Lü Bu had already prepared dinner. The two of them dined together in the hall of the side building.
Their conversation flowed naturally.
Lü Bu had stir-fried the pheasant he hunted that morning into a delicate dish, picking out a tender piece to place into Xiao Meng’s bowl. These days, apart from martial arts, his cooking had improved greatly—simply because he enjoyed watching Xiao Meng eat with such relish.
“Xiao Meng, what do you think of Guo Jia’s suggestion?” Lü Bu asked. “That day he said he could help me win back a seat at court. What’s your opinion?”
“But didn’t you already refuse him that day?” Xiao Meng replied, a bit surprised.
That day, after sending Guo Jia off, Lü Bu had immediately told Xiao Meng everything they discussed.
Xiao Meng understood Guo Jia’s abilities. Now with the Emperor’s support and having turned enemies into friends with Cao Cao, there really might be a time when Lü Bu would be needed. The situation had changed.
A comeback was not impossible!
Moreover… Every night for over a month now, Xiao Meng had carefully prepared medicine according to Hua Tuo’s prescription, applying it to Lü Bu’s forehead. Now, as Lü Bu drank his wine, Xiao Meng sneaked a glance—sure enough, the scar had long since vanished.
“I can change my mind, can’t I? It wasn’t a promise, after all. What matters most is what you want me to do.”
Lü Bu took another drink, smiling at Xiao Meng. “If you think I’m just a big man lazing about all day, I’ll let Guo Jia find me a job.”
But Xiao Meng clicked his tongue lightly and said, “Why must you always be occupied with official duties, running yourself ragged every day with no leisure? As long as we remember our promise to the Emperor, that’s enough to repay his kindness. Eat more and stop just drinking.” As he spoke, Xiao Meng added more greens to Lü Bu’s bowl.
“I’ve done the math; with what we have, we’ll have enough to live in comfort for a lifetime. What’s more…”
Xiao Meng glanced around the hall, speaking with meaning, “This place was Sima Lang’s contingency hideaway, likely hiding a great treasure to fund a comeback. I haven’t seriously explored it yet.”
Lü Bu was taken aback, then laughed at Xiao Meng’s sharp gaze. “I knew it! Xiao Meng really has the makings of a thief! Good, with you saying that, I can live the rest of my days in peace and moonlight with you.” He raised his cup and downed it in one go, his eyes catching the flush at the tips of Xiao Meng’s ears.
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Late autumn was ending. The night chill deepened, and tonight, a northern wind howled as if winter couldn’t wait to descend upon the land.
In recent days, Lü Bu had been lighting the brazier in Xiao Meng’s room every night, keeping it warm. He’d usually bring a good wine from the kitchen, sip a few cups with Xiao Meng, chat, and then retire to his own room.
Tonight, their conversation was especially lively, as Xiao Meng was sharing his treasure-hunting plans, explaining how he’d turn the estate upside down. “Speaking of treasures, I have one for you right now.”
Suddenly, Lü Bu, seated across the table, took out a small crimson silk-patterned box from his robe, opened it, and pushed it in front of Xiao Meng.
Inside was a “Phoenix Seeking the Male” jade pendant, carved from the finest white jade, lustrous and translucent like congealed cream. The pair of phoenixes on the pendant seemed alive, full of spirit.
From the palace to the Sima estate, Xiao Meng had seen his share of rare treasures, but at a glance, this jade seemed almost otherworldly—so stunning it took his breath away.
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For a long moment, Xiao Meng could only murmur in amazement.
“It’s from the palace! A wedding gift from His Majesty.” Lü Bu laughed, taking out an identical piece from his robe. “Look, it’s a pair. This one is mine.”
Xiao Meng suddenly realized something, feeling his cheeks grow hot.
“What kind of gift…”
This emperor was full of tricks—first a welcome gift, then a thank-you, now this…
Before Xiao Meng could look away, he was caught by Lü Bu’s fiery gaze, unable to escape.
“Of course, it’s a wedding gift for us. His Majesty even wished us a long, happy union.”
Lü Bu gazed at him, saying this as if it were the most natural thing in the world, not blinking once.
Xiao Meng felt his ears burn, his throat tightening.
Lü Bu…
Xiao Meng felt his chest burning, the flames suddenly spreading to his soft hands. His hand felt seared—Lü Bu had already grasped it tightly.
“So Xiao Meng, will you marry me?”
Xiao Meng saw it again—in the instant he heard those words, the same wild flame ignited in Lü Bu’s eyes as that day on the White Gate Tower, when he’d held Xiao Meng in his arms—the very flame Xiao Meng’s soul had never forgotten.
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In that moment, Xiao Meng nearly fell into those flames, never to return.
“Don’t… don’t be ridiculous!”
Xiao Meng turned his head, as if the movement took all his strength, his voice weak. “I’m… not a woman, neither of us are… what’s this about marrying? Isn’t it absurd!”
“You don’t want to marry me?” Lü Bu exaggeratedly let go of Xiao Meng’s hand, pretending to sigh. “I suppose… I’m no longer a general, nor a high minister. No armies, no titles, no wealth—I’m just a penniless villager now. No wonder you wouldn’t marry me!”
He sighed dramatically.
Xiao Meng, flustered, protested, “What nonsense! You’re just—”
“Then let me marry you!”
Lü Bu grabbed Xiao Meng’s hand again, tighter than before, his gaze even more intense.
He watched Xiao Meng stare at him, dumbfounded and adorable, and felt even more delighted. “All our fortune is in your hands now, so you’re the rich one. Lately, I see you’re talented not only as a thief, but you have a knack for business too. With you, what’s to worry about? Xiao Meng is truly worth marrying!”
Lü Bu grinned, rare for him; Xiao Meng’s face was scarlet, utterly embarrassed. But Lü Bu wasn’t done. “And…” His voice dropped, deep and seductive, as he leaned closer, his grip on Xiao Meng’s hand tightening, catching Xiao Meng’s panicked gaze—every word laced with desire.
“Xiao Meng… aren’t you the one lusting after my body? Otherwise, why do you always go to the herb garden whenever I bathe? You know the only window in the bath faces the garden… and it’s always open…”
Boom—
A thunderclap went off in Xiao Meng’s mind.
Of course he knew why he did it.
So this infuriating man had always known his secret—a secret mixed with embarrassment and pleasure.
Xiao Meng had always known Lü Bu was keenly perceptive, detecting movement within tens of meters, but never thought his own secret would be discovered—perhaps, deep down, he wanted it to be known.
Xiao Meng wanted to scream, but could only breathe in quick, ragged gasps.
He felt his whole body burning, as if every pore was exploding with heat. He felt weightless, as if he couldn’t feel the ground beneath him.
He’d never experienced anything like this, body or soul.
In the past, Xiao Meng had tried alchemical pills, but their fleeting rush couldn’t compare to this. The difference was worlds apart.
Yet this devastating feeling came from nothing more than Lü Bu’s simple words.
Heavens—!
In that extreme emotion, a nearly wild courage erupted. Xiao Meng pulled free, stared Lü Bu straight in the eye, and raised his voice: “What are you doing! You’re not even a cut-sleeve! You like beautiful women, don’t you? Isn’t that why you were attracted to me in the first place? I know I’m beautiful, but no matter how beautiful, I’m not a woman! I may be missing something, but however incomplete—that’s still a man’s body!”
He stared Lü Bu down, pouring out all the words he’d buried—this was his truest, most unvarnished self.
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These days, they’d embraced and kissed, both naturally and joyfully.
Because they hadn’t taken the final step, Lü Bu could still treat him as a woman; but if it ever came to that, Xiao Meng didn’t even dare imagine the outcome.
This was his deepest fear, a truth he’d always avoided.
…Since you force me, I have no choice but to lay it all bare.
So Xiao Meng felt wronged, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He was angry—not at Lü Bu, but at himself.
Yet Lü Bu only gazed at him.
Suddenly, Lü Bu reached out and pulled Xiao Meng into his arms, making him sit on his lap. Lü Bu’s iron arms encircled Xiao Meng’s delicate body, locking him in a tight embrace, pressing their bodies close, not leaving a sliver of space.
As soon as he sat, Xiao Meng felt something strange. Where their waists pressed together, Xiao Meng sensed an intense, hard heat, surging and barely restrained.
It felt like sitting on a brazier—his whole body aflame, the fire spreading inward, burning his soul. He knew the source of that heat: Lü Bu.
Precisely the thing he himself lacked between his legs. Xiao Meng instinctively tried to escape.
But before he could, Lü Bu’s arms tightened, pulling Xiao Meng even closer.
Xiao Meng inhaled sharply—he had no strength left to move, even the thought of escape was scattered by that subtle motion.
Outside, only the howling northern wind could be heard; inside, only the sound of their breathing.
Lü Bu’s breath was still steady, but Xiao Meng’s was chaotic—he felt all his will focused on breathing, unable to think of anything to say.
“Don’t be afraid, Xiao Meng…”
Lü Bu’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, his lips brushing Xiao Meng’s ear.
He nuzzled there, then whispered, “Xiao Meng… I’ve always felt that human language is the most useless thing. Once people open their mouths, they rarely speak from the heart. Whether persuading or arguing, it’s always a lie—to others, or to themselves. No matter how much you say, you can never be completely honest.”
Xiao Meng dared not move—the pressure came not just from below, but from being enveloped in an overwhelming masculine aura, so strong it invaded every pore.
He felt that if he moved even a little, the wild heat pressing against him might pierce right through.
Lü Bu’s hot breath brushed his ear, but his tone was gentler than ever, as if restraining himself before a storm. “Xiao Meng, you say so much because you’re afraid I can’t accept your body. So I’ll say nothing. Feel this—this is my answer.”
With that, Lü Bu unexpectedly nibbled his earlobe, a cautious little test.
Xiao Meng couldn’t suppress a low moan, feeling his senses swell, and the sensation below intensified! Lü Bu’s breath hitched, his waist stiffening. Without a word, he swept Xiao Meng into his arms and carried him to the bed, laying him down gently.
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The red candle was burning low, casting shifting shadows across the bedroom.
The wind outside seemed to fade into the distance.
Xiao Meng could hear only his own heartbeat and breath.
As he lay on the bed, Lü Bu naturally straddled him, half-kneeling at the bedside.
“Bu…” Xiao Meng felt he had to say something, but Lü Bu bent down, one arm at Xiao Meng’s head, the other hand gently pressing a finger to Xiao Meng’s lips, smiling softly: “Don’t speak—whenever you talk, you’re just trying to lie to yourself.”
Once Xiao Meng fell silent, Lü Bu pressed that finger to his own lips in a “shh” gesture, deliberately pressing hard, his intense gaze capturing every flicker in Xiao Meng’s eyes and expression.
“Only in silence can we hear our own hearts. That’s the truest language,” Lü Bu said.
Xiao Meng stared up at Lü Bu’s face—so close, he could see the softness in Lü Bu’s eyes beneath long lashes, the pressure he’d felt before now softened. Finally, he could calm down and listen.
“Of course I’m not a cut-sleeve. I like beautiful women—you’re right.” Lü Bu gazed at Xiao Meng with infinite tenderness. “I admit, I’m a man obsessed with beauty. And you, Xiao Meng… you’re the only one in this world who can make me love like an addiction. Whether you’re a man, or an incomplete man, that doesn’t matter.”
Lü Bu bent lower, kissed Xiao Meng’s forehead, then his lips.
Their lips and tongues entwined, tenderly.
After a while, Lü Bu let go and straightened up.
Xiao Meng saw that wild flame blaze again in Lü Bu’s eyes.
So it’s true…
When that fire appeared, he could only chase it, watch it flicker, forever.
Xiao Meng thought, feeling as light as a cloud.
Lü Bu’s gaze deepened, his desire growing stronger. “Now, Xiao Meng, just listen to your own heart. See what it wants to say to you.”
With that, he’d already shed his clothes.
The red candle was nearly spent, its flame barely a dot; in the corner, the brazier’s dim red glow grew brighter, while the faint moonlight slipped in through the window.
In that strange shifting light, Xiao Meng gazed at Lü Bu’s tall, powerful body.
Not a thing hidden.
In this moment, Xiao Meng heard his own heart.
His heart told him to savor the beauty before him.
That beautiful, endlessly powerful male body—including the vitality at its peak below the waist.
Xiao Meng couldn’t look away.
He even lifted his shoulders slightly, helping Lü Bu gently untie his robe, until they were both completely exposed to each other.
The brazier crackled softly.
But Xiao Meng felt that his own body was the true source of heat in the room, especially when Lü Bu’s deep, hot gaze lingered over every inch, every part… Xiao Meng felt himself aflame, floating.
And when he noticed Lü Bu’s body responding with awe to his own, that vitality shone even brighter, its tip almost glowing with light—
He was entranced.
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Lü Bu could restrain himself no longer, pressing Xiao Meng into a fierce embrace, kissing him passionately, lips and tongue devouring even his most sensitive spots.
Xiao Meng could only gasp for breath and endure the overwhelming ecstasy and emotion, able to do nothing else.
And that wasn’t even the most intense part.
As Lü Bu’s wild force, mingling pain and pleasure, crashed and surged inside him, Xiao Meng heard the man above him grunting hoarsely in his ear, as if suppressing something nearly uncontrollable, whispering in a broken, burning voice:
“Xiao Meng… my Xiao Meng…
…I’m finally certain…”
Lü Bu’s voice trembled with restraint,
“Your body… I don’t just not mind…
I like it—like it so much…
Your body… I love it!…
I love it!... Xiao Meng…”
Xiao Meng said nothing—he had no words left.
He wept—tears that came from overwhelming joy, happiness, and pleasure.
—Absolute sincerity can only erupt in silence.
And so, in this moment, Xiao Meng finally met his true self.
He threw his whole being into holding this wild, godlike man above him, afraid that loosening his grip would make him fall into a bottomless abyss.
By instinct, he tried to take in every part of Lü Bu’s body, letting him run wild.
Tonight, Xiao Meng resolved to bare both body and soul completely to this steppe storm.
There was nowhere to hide.
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Beneath thick clouds, Lü Bu galloped across the vast, somber steppe.
An inexplicable urgency filled his heart—he knew he had to reach that place.
The wind howled, growing fiercer, but it only stoked his inner fire, driving him to race against the gale.
At last, a patch of blue appeared on the steppe’s horizon—Lü Bu knew he was close!
It was a sapphire-blue steppe lake.
He dismounted, leading his horse slowly toward the shore. From the lakeside, he gazed at the distant, majestic Yinshan Mountains.
Just then, Lü Bu’s gaze shifted—to the far shore, where a woman stood.
She had long hair and wore steppe attire. Lü Bu looked closely—she was watching him too.
He didn’t know why, but from that distance, her features grew clearer—there was a hint of Xiao Meng’s gentle softness in her eyes.
And then he realized who she was.
Mother…?
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Lü Bu awoke from the dream.
A warm weight in his arms—Xiao Meng, sound asleep on his chest, his long, soft hair spilling over his jade-like back.
Lü Bu gently pulled the blanket up, covering Xiao Meng’s snow-white shoulders.
The candle in the room was out, but the brazier still glowed faintly red.
It was the third watch; the wind had stopped, but now rain drummed softly against the window. He didn’t know when it had started.
Lü Bu gazed intently at the one in his arms, watching his long lashes rise and fall with his even breaths.
At that moment, Xiao Meng seemed just like a child—fragile and pure.
A surge of infinite tenderness filled Lü Bu’s heart, and he hugged Xiao Meng tighter.
He swore silently that he would spend a long, long life with this little one, and that every night, Xiao Meng would fall asleep in his arms like this.
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A faint noise—Lü Bu knew Xiao Meng was waking up.
Xiao Meng opened his beautiful, sleepy eyes and looked up at Lü Bu.
“Awake? It’s not dawn yet—sleep a bit more.” Lü Bu’s tone was as gentle as if coaxing a child.
Xiao Meng shook his head and nuzzled closer, not sleeping, just lying on Lü Bu.
Neither of them wanted to disturb the peace.
After a while, Lü Bu rolled over, this time burying himself in Xiao Meng’s embrace, still holding him, head nestled in Xiao Meng’s neck.
Xiao Meng heard Lü Bu murmur softly in his ear, the breath brushing his skin, the voice barely audible:
“…Does it hurt a lot?”
Lü Bu immediately felt Xiao Meng’s body tremble, and looked up, but Xiao Meng quickly looked away, his face bright red, whispering, “…just a little.”
He felt awkward, but glancing at Lü Bu saw only genuine concern, as if truly wanting to make sure. Instantly warmed, he hugged Lü Bu tightly, saying softly, “Silly, I’m fine. If I really felt bad, I’d tell you.”
A moment later, he whispered, “I’m fine… and you… you’re fine too.”
Blushing all over, he didn’t see the ambiguous smile on Lü Bu’s face, only heard him say gently, “That’s good.”
“What are you thinking about?” Xiao Meng asked. When he first woke, he’d glanced at Lü Bu and saw his gaze distant, as if lost in memories.
“…I just had a dream—of the steppe, and of my mother.” Lü Bu replied, playing with Xiao Meng’s hair. “I’ve never dreamed of my mother before, or my hometown.”
He propped himself up and looked at Xiao Meng. “Xiao Meng, shall we go to Bingzhou together?”
Though Lü Bu was born in Wuyuan, Bingzhou, as the son of a lower-class family, he had lost all ties to his hometown after his parents died.
In fact, since following Ding Yuan to Chang’an, he’d never returned.
“Sure! I’ve always wanted to see your hometown.” Xiao Meng smiled, snuggling back into Lü Bu’s arms. “From now on, wherever you go, I’ll be with you.”
There was a gentle yet resolute finality in his words.
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End of Chapter 36
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Burning Dreams Chronicles Chapter 36 “Night on the Steppe”28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNfXooI3A24
Original work by King Heyin (Vampire L). All rights reserved.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuHZEfqoXbQ
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© King Heyin (Vampire L). All rights reserved.
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