Look Under 'His' Skirt

Chapter 4: Fiery Wrath of the Dung

He laughs when he hears the sudden cries of anguish erupt as they try to get the putrid dung away from their eyes, mouth and of course, their nose. They blindly swing their swords around which Zhihuan swiftly dodges, dashing outside the shed and into the sunlight. Momentarily blinded by the sunlight, Zhihuan misses his step, falling onto his side and rolling down the side of a steep hill. He hisses in pain as a few twigs and rocks catch his skin as he falls to the floor.  

"For the love of God, you gave me a bloody heart attack," a voice calls out. Zhihuan lets out a grown, slightly wincing from the pain and opens his eyes. From the floor, he opens his eyes to see a blurry image of leaves staring down at him before a face suddenly enters his vision.

"Who are you!?" the stranger's voice demands, taking in his appearance. Zhihuan was not surprised. He was covered in dirt, hay, dung and now cuts. He winces when an arrow was aimed directly at his neck. Not again.

"No one in particular," Zhihuan mutters out, coughing. The fact that the strange man asked who he was, meant that he was not one of the soldiers pursuing him. 

His vision still blurry, another face enters his field of few. Much larger and longer. His view still slightly hazy, he blinks a few times before something wet hits his face. Opening his eyes, he sees a beast, a black beast slobbering all over him! A horse to be more precise. Great. Just great. Zhihuan didn't even care anymore. Wiping the slobber off his face, he sits up, finally seeing the strangers face, only to recognise him and his green eyes.

"Aarush?" Zhihuan calls out in surprise before a grin breaks out, taking in the caramel-skinned boy with the golden green eyes, a wave of memories suddenly rushing in. 

Aarush suddenly straightens up, frowning as he aims the arrow even closer, the cool metal touching Zhihuans skin. 

"And you are?" Aarush asks suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. Not everyone knew his name as he mainly worked in the shadows. Yet this obscure person for some reason knew. Was he a spy? No, he would not be this relaxed. 

"Wow Aarush. Im hurt. It has only been like what , 6 months maybe? Or perhaps a year and you already forgot about me? That makes me sad," Zhihuan jokes, chuckling. It was only when Zhihuan brushed the dirt and hay that was stuck to his face that Aarush clearly took in Zhihuans eyes. Those one of a kind, golden brown gems with a flicker of red and green. 

Zhihuan suddenly falls back as the boy tackles him onto the grass. Zhihuan winces as Aarush tightly hugs him whilst giggeling, not caring for the current state he was in. Ah, he must be in his other personality again. "Zhihaun! Please forgive me for not recognising you earlier. Stupid stupid Aarush. But why are you like this?" Aarush pouts dejected, hitting himself on the head. Zhihuan smiles. He was the only one outside of the royal family that dared call him his real name. Well in this personality anyways. It was refreshing. 

Zhihuan rubs the back of Aarush's head and stands up. "No need to appologise Aarush. We have been friends for many years now. You are like a brother to me. As for what happened, let me tell you after I clean up," Zhihuan says, walking towards a nearby stream.

"You might need this," Aarush says, holding his nose and chucking a set of spare clothes at him from his bag. "I mean, it may not be fit for a prince but its a hell of a lot better then what you've got now." Zhihuan was shocked to hear these words suddenly coming from Aarush, only to realise his personality must have changed yet again. 

As Zhihuan bathed in the stream, Aarush takes the princes clothes, ready to burn it when something falls out. Curious, he bends down, only to be shocked at what he was holding. 'The Art of a Thousand Li,' the very book Zhihuan was struggling to read when they first met as children. Aarush smiles, a sad smile, the memory of how they first met consuming him.