My Fulang is a Delicate Flower Chapter 62 Part 2

The temperature difference between day and night in the northern frontier was extreme. After all the commotion, Ji Taoyu’s body had grown cold, and his sleepiness had vanished.  

He burrowed into Huo Shu’s arms, resting against the man’s always-warm body.  

“I worried you.”  

Huo Shu patted Ji Taoyu’s back. “It’s nothing. Once we return to Tongzhou, everything will be fine.”  

“Mhm.”  

Ji Taoyu traced his fingers over Huo Shu’s firm chest, rising and falling with each breath.  

“Good thing you stayed in Tongzhou. If you’d brought me to live in the northern frontier, it would’ve taken me forever to adjust to this climate.”  

Huo Shu grabbed the hand that was making his chest itch, clenched it in his palm, and couldn’t bear to let go. In the end, he simply held it against his own chest.  

Even if Ji Taoyu was willing to stay with him in the Northern Territory, he might not agree to it.  

The customs here were fierce and unruly. He feared that even with three heads and six arms, he wouldn’t be able to keep watch over everything.  

"Let’s sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow."  

After coaxing Ji Taoyu back to sleep, Huo Shu didn’t close his eyes the entire night.  

The Northern Territory dawned much earlier than the south.  

Though they intended to rise early, everyone was accustomed to southern waking hours. By the time they would usually get up in the south, it was already late morning in the north.  

The Northern merchants arrived early, waiting for them to finish packing before setting off together.  

The horse ranch was in the countryside. Huo Shu’s idea was that once they went there, they shouldn’t waste time making a round trip back to the prefectural city.  

After selecting the horses, they could return directly.  

There wasn’t much to pack. Having sold several large chests of silk, their load was lighter. 

Thinking about the now-empty chests they had brought, Huo Shu considered whether they should buy some Northern goods to take back south.  

But after discussing it with Ge Liang last night, he realized there wasn’t much worth buying for resale.  

The north was already scarce in resources, with limited food variety. The only thing worth bringing was mutton.  

In this weather, raw meat couldn’t be transported—only dried mutton. But it didn’t seem particularly popular in Tongzhou, so selling it might be difficult.  

Given this, he simply packed some travel funds and focused entirely on the horses.  

Loading the remaining tea, they set off for the horse ranch.  

Ji Taoyu had woken once during the night and hadn’t slept well afterward.  

His body overheated, and his nose bled. By morning, he was yawning constantly, his complexion poor.  

Seeing him like this, the group grew concerned and urged him to rest properly in the carriage.  

Ji Taoyu didn’t refuse. He didn’t ride alongside Huo Shu to sightsee.  

He heard the horse ranch was in a place called Keshui County, just beyond the Northern Territory’s prefectural city. It would take most of the day to get there, so he could sleep now and still see the northern scenery later.  

Unexpectedly, Huo Shu didn’t ride either and instead squeezed into the carriage with him.  

Ji Taoyu looked at the suddenly cramped space, blinking at Huo Shu in surprise.  

Ever since last night’s incident, Ji Taoyu felt Huo Shu was watching him especially closely, as if he needed to keep him within sight at all times.  

"I’m really fine. Didn’t the physician already say so?"  

He spoke patiently, though a little helpless. "The way you’re acting makes me feel like I’m on my last days."  

Huo Shu said, "I know you’re fine. It’s not about that, I just want to spend more time with you."  

Ji Taoyu’s brows lifted slightly. Those words struck him as unexpectedly sweet.  

Pursing his lips, he said nothing more and rested his head on Huo Shu’s lap.  

"Brother Huo, where is your home?"  

Huo Shu shifted his gaze from Ji Taoyu’s profile to the window.  

The farther they traveled toward the outskirts of the prefectural city, the scarcer the trees and grass became, replaced by exposed earth and yellow sand.  

"In Keshui County, the outermost village."  

Ji Taoyu suddenly sat up. "Then while we’re there to see the horses, can’t you visit your hometown?"  

Huo Shu pulled him back onto his lap. "Probably not."  

"The village is close to the border, where sandstorms rage. Unlike other villages with enough grass for ranches, the people there lived in hardship, fleeing war and constantly migrating for survival. Even when I left, there weren’t many villagers left. After so many years, I don’t even know if the village still exists."  

The north wasn’t like the south, where ancestral ties ran deep. Life here was too unstable.  

They didn’t care about "returning to their roots"—because, in a way, they never had roots to begin with.  

Ji Taoyu asked softly, "What about your parents?"  

Huo Shu looked at him. He really hadn’t spoken much about his parents before. But now that they were back on this land, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him.  

"Truthfully, I never met my father. They say he was a handsome man. Charming enough to be reckless. My mother was infatuated and had a fleeting affair with him, then I came along."  

"With a child, life in the prefectural city was hard for my mother. Later, she married a man and moved to the village in Keshui County. Life was still tough, but the man treated her well. They had a son together, and she lived steadily for over a decade."  

During those years, he grew up. His mother said he looked more and more like his father.  

Maybe she regretted her youthful choices, maybe seeing his face pained her, or maybe now that she had a husband and son, she simply grew distant.  

Later, she fell ill and died. His stepfather had never been comfortable with him around. While his mother was alive, the man had at least kept up appearances out of respect for her. But once she was gone, the pretense ended.  

So when the conscription officers arrived, of course he sent him.  

Huo Shu could have survived on his own and left. But this family had sheltered him when he was too young to fend for himself.  

So he didn’t resist. He took the conscription as repayment.  

"Not two years later, I met a fellow villager in the army and heard the man had died too."  

Ji Taoyu listened as Huo Shu spoke calmly, as if recounting someone else’s story.  

He had thought his cold, detached demeanor came from a decade on the frontlines. Now he realized half of it stemmed from a troubled childhood.  

"So there’s nothing to go back for. It was never my home anyway. They probably think I died on the battlefield long ago."