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translations-by-aiimee · 2 years ago

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Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 14

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

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Chapter 14 - Hand-held Comb

With the sound of cicadas, the weather was getting hotter, and before they knew it, it was already summer.

The wolf-hair pen fell on the white rice paper, and the delicate handwriting was writing out medical records, without any scribbles. From the earliest wound treatment to drug detoxification to dredging the meridians three months ago, and reviving the qi region, each treatment step and each medication plan were written in detail and bound into a book for future medical records to refer to.

Yue Wuhuan's psychological state, however, Song Qingshi didn't know how to write. He hesitated for a while and finally just wrote a few strokes to outline the medical case. Comparing before and after, it seemed that there was a trend of improvement.

Yue Wuhuan's schedule had become regular and busy.

He found an unused sword in the treasury, got up before dawn and practiced for two hours. Then, he waited for Song Qingshi to freshen up and read books with him for a couple hours to learn medical knowledge and in the afternoon, study anatomy or try to formulate medicine and alchemy together. In the evening, after dealing with the internal affairs of Medicine King's Valley, he meditated and practiced cultivation for two hours.

A cultivator's physique does not require much sleep, so he was reluctant to waste time and only slept for one or two hours a day. If not for Song Qingshi's insistence on eating together, he would even want to replace his food with a grain-substituting pill.

Song Qingshi never imagined that in this life, he would still have to persuade others to study at a leisurely pace.

Yue Wuhuan said that he had wasted too much time and was only making the best use of his time.

Because of his previous core-building experience and improved aptitude, he quickly returned to the sixth level of qi training, and a new cultivation level was just around the corner.

Song Qingshi looked at the improving physical condition in the medical records and let him go.

. . .

With the arrival of summer, Song Qingshi discovered the benefits of cool silk. He loved to wear silk pajamas in the original world, and he liked to fall asleep in the soft and natural touch of silk, a little luxury in his humble life. The immortal world's cool silk was several grades better than the mortal silk. When it was stuck to his body, it was as light as nothing, slightly cool and moist, sweeping away all the heat.

He asked the medicine servant to purchase several sheets of plain cool silk to make into modern two-piece pyjamas. Wearing a wide, large pullover, a long-sleeved T-shirt with a large neckline and loose pants with laces every day, he slept very comfortably.

He tried to give Yue Wuhuan the modified pyjamas.

Yue Wuhuan looked at the pyjamas on him for a long while, refused, and then went for an extra hour of sword practice.

Song Qingshi still wanted to cut his hair off. He was not used to men with such long hair. He stayed at home every day and didn't want to waste time combing his hair. He took the scissors and gestured at the mirror for a long time wanting to do it. Yue Wuhuan came in to see. He immediately snatched his scissors and lost his temper for the first time: "What is Master trying to do?!"

After learning the reason, he gave Song Qingshi a good lesson.

"Your body and hair are precious. In the eyes of the world, there are only three situations in which a man will cut off his hair." Yue Wuhuan could hardly control his anger, and his voice was very stern, "One is a monk, the other is a sinner, and the third is an arrogant person. Which one does Master want to be?"

Song Qingshi shook his head wildly: "I don't want to be any of them, but I think my hair is too brittle and it's troublesome to comb it."

"Let me try," Yue Wuhuan heaved a sigh of relief after learning the reason. He took the fragrant wood comb on the mirror stand, poured some orchid ointment into the palm of his hand, and carefully tidied his fine hair. He fixed it into a long thin braid, then all pulled up into a bun, and then put on a hair crown made of white jade, and finally, fondly let go of his hand, "Is this good?"

"Very good, your hands are really skillful," Song Qingshi looked at the hair that was combed many times neater than his own, and asked after complimenting, "Wuhuan, should I find a maid who combs my hair? "

Yue Wuhuan's hand holding the comb paused. He controlled the faint evil thoughts bubbling up, and asked softly: "Master. . . you don't like me doing your hair? Do you want someone else to do it?"

Song Qingshi immediately denied it: "I'm afraid that you're too overqualified for a job like this."

Yue Wuhuan turned around and smiled: "Wuhuan has received great kindness from Master. There is nothing to repay you, and it's difficult to sleep at night. If I can do some small things for Master, it'll make me feel much more peaceful. . ."

When Song Qingshi heard that doing this would make him feel better, he agreed decisively: "If you don't find it troublesome, I will leave my hair to you."

Yue Wuhuan gently combed his sideburn hair for him and responded with a smile.

When he was young, he once saw his elder brother brushing the crown princess's hair, with only tenderness and care.

At that time, he admired his elder brother, who was the number one general in the army, and he didn't understand why he did such boring things, but his elder brother told him cheerfully, "I've been carrying a hand-comb for a long time, but I haven't touched my own hair since my previous relationship. Little Wuhuan, when you grow up and meet someone you like, you will understand the fun of it."

At that time, he didn't understand.

Now, he understands the taste of letting the threads of love slip through his fingers and tantalize his heartstrings.

He placed the fragrant wood comb on his lips and kissed lightly.

If I can hold your hair for the rest of my life, can I avoid ever having to reincarnate?

. . .

Song Qingshi had solved all their troubles and they were very happy.

He suddenly remembered something, and asked Yue Wuhuan: "In two days, do you want to accompany me to Le City? I ordered a batch of experimental equipment from Tianji Pavilion. The items are expensive and complex. Tianji Pavilion is afraid there's a mistake so I have to go personally to explain the situation. And. . . I heard that Le City is rich in food and wine, and the dance music in the Immortal Dance House is also excellent. Do you want to see it together?"

He was put into the book by the system administration for some time now. He was busy treating illnesses every day, and he didn't take a serious look at the appearance of the immortal world. Although the memory of the original body is constantly fused with him, he always felt that many things were confusing with many shortcomings.

Recently, he had also belatedly realized that he already had a healthy body and a long life span, so he didn’t need to worry about running out of time like in the old world, and race against time to study, lest he be paralyzed on the bed at some point and won’t be able to get up again or save himself.

Some say that such a life is boring. . .

Now, he can spare a little free time and use it to feel the interesting life of a normal person.

He could eat the food that the doctors didn't allow before, do exercise that the doctors forbade, and even taste wine and study why so many people are fascinated with it.

Although he didn't know if he would like these things, he had to try them to know the answer.

Song Qingshi thought about his new life that lay ahead of him, a little excited and looking forward to it.

Le City's invitation is the beginning. On the one hand, he wants Yue Wuhuan to go out to relax, and not to stay with him so thoroughly and become a hermit. On the other hand, he was also worried that he would have communication struggles with strangers. The pavilion couldn't understand medical terminology and he couldn't understand the production requirements. It would be much more convenient for Yue Wuhuan to help him communicate.

Yue Wuhuan thought for a moment and agreed.

On the day of departure, Yue Wuhuan put on a headscarf and covered his appearance with a long black veil.

Song Qingshi was puzzled: "Are you afraid of getting sunburned?"

Yue Wuhuan laughed and said, "Master will understand later."

Song Qingshi thought about it and understood that Wuhuan must be so beautiful because he was afraid of lechers. Song Qingshi immediately took all the magic weapons and poisons with him and asked him to follow him closely when he went out. He also made a simple anti-poisoning potion and gave it to Yue Wuhuan, telling him that the spray would make the perverts blind for at least half a month. Yue Wuhuan happily accepted it and put it together with other medicinal powders he had prepared.

The two of them travelled to Le City by immortal beast.

Le City was the nearest big city to Medicine King's Valley, built around the river, with convenient transportation, so the market was bustling with everything that one expects to find, and there were countless cultivators coming and going.

Song Qingshi felt like a newcomer who had just entered the city, and his eyes were not good enough. What were the golden fruit dew and the light blue drink that the immortal woman was selling in the teahouse? He had to try them! What was the strange fruit on the fruit stand? He had to buy and study it! The singing paper men made by the peddler were really interesting. The beauties in the flower house dressed as the flying dancers in the murals, attracting guests from the air, and throwing winks at him. He watched for a long time and couldn't help but to reach over and explore. . .

Is such a vulgar woman worth caring about?

Yue Wuhuan waited and waited until he couldn't bear it anymore, and finally snapped his head back and asked, "Are they good-looking?"

Song Qingshi withdrew his divine thoughts, and quietly replied: "This girl has a yellow spot in her eyes, maybe there is something wrong with her gallbladder."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

What kind of obsession does Master have with eyes?

The author has something to say: If Wuhuan hadn't stopped him, Top Student Song would probably be the first protagonist in the history of Jinjiang to cut his hair short and wear a t-shirt.

#mistakenly saving the villain translation #mistakenly saving the villain #bl novel #chinese novel #english translation #chinese bl #danmei #danmei novel #yaoi #yaoi novel #song qingshi #yue wuhuan

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starkraivennemad · 1 year ago

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The Smartest Man

I walk into the restaurant and nod to the owner, who always greets me when he knows I will be there. I nod in greeting and look around as I remove my coat.

“Mister Lestrade arrived five minutes ago. He is at your usual table, sir.” Davek informs me quietly as takes my coat. After learning the hard way that I am allergic to Siamese cats, he knows to bag it and hang it away from everyone else’s. “I have also left your second usual open.”

“Thank you, Davek.” I accept the information and head in.

My usual table was is just off the wall, near the back exit, but has very little foot traffic. It is more out in the open where I can casually view all around me and is easier for my security to get to me, and get me out, if necessary. My second usual table is a semi-private booth against the wall. It added a whopping forty extra seconds if extraction became necessary, but was better suited for private conversations. That Davek, a very observant man in his own right, sat Lestrade there was telling.

Like me, Gregory does not like having his back to the door, so I appreciate that he has left my preferred seat for me and though his back is to me, I easily spot him. His silver hair gleams even in the semi-dimmed lighting for dinner. The burgundy pullover he wears is finely made and fits him well. It’s better than what he usually wears, the ill- fitting, but comfortable suits for work. I know that means he went home early from work and changed clothes, but then I note his body language. Slouched, elbows on table as his hands fiddle with the empty highball glass before him. The water glass is untouched and he has only been here five minutes? Something has happened.

That is why Davek left the booth available.

“Good evening, Gregory.” I tap him lightly on the shoulder and gesture to the booth. “I see by your face we would be better off sitting there. Leave the glass, they will bring a fresh one.”

“Good evening, Mycroft.” Gregory echoes as he rises, his face grateful as he sees the booth. “Thank you.”

I order drinks and appetizers with the server as Gregory follows me to the table.

I idly note as my security acknowledges the change among themselves, then forget them as I focus on what is important – Gregory and what ever has happened to have him looking as he does.

It hurts me to see the dejection that sours his whole being. I live for his smile, especially when I imagine it is directed at me, but know better. I want nothing more than to pull him into my arms, hold him and tell him whatever it is, I will make it right for him. Alas, I am in love with a married man and keep those feelings to myself. I treasure the friendship that we have forged from our former animosities in the decade of knowing each other. I do not have anyone else outside of my brother, I can call such, I will not risk losing it and have nothing with him.

He accepts his new drink as I receive my Macallan when they arrive. I then know why he looks as he does. He lifts the bourbon with his left hand. A left hand with a tan line that tells of the ring that was there a week ago when I saw him last.

He sees my eyes stray to his hand and gives a mocking salute with it. “You’re the smartest person I know. Tell me.”

His not soon enough to be ex-wife Amelia was a serial philanderess, at least in the last three of their six-year marriage. Greg only knows of three affairs, but my brother and I deduced a total of five lovers. Over the holidays, Sherlock in his usual unthinking manner, tactlessly informed Gregory of the current lover, the PE teacher, an ongoing affair of four months.

“The PE teacher was the straw. The camel has filed for divorce at last.” I say sardonically as I also raise my glass and take a sip. I must to give me a moment to hide the smile that wants to break forth.

“Like I said smartest man I know.” Greg takes a large sip then pushes his glass away as he looks at me. The sadness in his eyes is unbearable. “So perhaps you can tell me, why am I so hard to love and be faithful to?”

“Oh Gregory! Don’t you dare take what that woman has done as a failure of yourself. ” I unthinkingly grab the hand that starts to reach for the drink again and hold it. “You gave her far more chances than she ever deserved. You loved her and married her with the full and correct expectation of receiving what you gave her - faithfulness and loyalty.” I realize I am holding his hand and I interlock our fingers when I feel him start to pull away, holding him in place as I continue. “She thought she had what it took to be married to a cop and did not. That is not her fault – it is not an easy thing. However, instead of being up front with it and neatly breaking away, she did…what she did…multiple times.”

Greg snorts derisively at that. I am secretly ecstatic when uses his other hand to take his glass and drink. I feel his fingers grasp mine in search of the comfort, he does not know how to - or if he can - ask me for, I give it to him.

“I promise you this: someday you and I will be at dinner and we will look back on this day and laugh. We will laugh because by then you will be in love with and be loved by someone who will cherish you and understand the joys, the long hours and the perils what you do, but will never hold it against you.”

Greg smiles for the first time that evening. It is a watery, but honest one. I squeeze the hand I hold once and let it go when he slowly – is it my imagination that it is reluctantly? – pulls it away knowing it is not something the Iceman would normally do. I can tell he appreciates it, and that makes me happy. “You can promise that?”

I know I am a cold man. I have curated this untouchable Iceman image with care. It protects me from everything, but my own heart which is unknowingly in the keeping of the man whose hand I just held. The man who has somehow broken through the many ice walls I surround myself with.

“You are a man who can be loved. Who deserves to be loved, Gregory.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” I look at his left hand again and curiosity gets the best of me. “Forgive me, but what did you do with your ring?”

Greg reaches for his water goblet and takes several large gulps as his face turns to crimson. This is a bit not good.

“Dear lord man, what did you do?”

Greg shakes his head in denial, but he is also holding his stomach trying not to laugh.

“You did not!” I gasp at the unexpectedness of it as the answer comes to me.

“Yes, I did.” Gregory outright laughs. “It was a shite marriage; it seemed a fitting burial of it. Or rather it will be - eventually.”

He is laughing, that also makes me quietly happy that I can give this to him.

I bring a serviette to my lips at the most ungracious snort that escapes and try to stifle my own urge to laugh. He makes me, ME, laugh – out loud. It is what he gives to me and one of the many reasons I love him.

As much hope as I now have, I fully understand this is not the right time to profess my love for him. He needs time. That I can give him and mentally send a wish out to Universe that when he is ready, I am the one he chooses next.

“How did you know I…?” Gregory lets a cheeky giggle escape.

I wink smiling, “I am the smartest person you know.”

#fictober23 #bbc sherlock #mystrade

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chip-potato-real · 2 years ago

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nomarsfinery · 10 days ago

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