Chapter 7: Simply Shameless

Lin Shijin was slapped in the face at lightning speed; he’d been made to hear the sect rules five hundred times and still wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t misheard.

At that very moment, Jing Qiuhong twisted the knife. “Five hundred copies is already showing mercy. On ordinary days the punishment starts at a thousand.”

“So when the elders aren’t around, it’s Sheng Rufei who oversees lessons. When Sheng Rufei is teaching, no one dares pull any tricks. You’re the first foolhardy hero.”

Lin Shijin had no desire to be the first foolhardy hero. He was thoroughly put out… and he still owed his shizun another thousand copies of the sect rules.

But he really was in the wrong, so he could only sulk by himself, glaring at Sheng Rufei for a long moment before trudging back alone once the lesson ended.

Feng Rugao had only told him to attend the class with Sheng Rufei. Once it was over, naturally the two of them went their separate ways.

Besides, Sheng Rufei had only just punished him, so he had no wish to see him again so soon. Remembering Jing Qiuhong’s words, he made his way towards the Library Pavilion.

Entering the library required a disciple’s token. Today, it seemed unusually crowded. After handing his token over, he spotted a familiar figure not far away.

The red thread still tied their wrists together made it easy to recognise Sheng Rufei among the crowd. A great many disciples were gathered around him.

“Sheng-shixiong, are you here to borrow books as well?”

“Sheng-shidi, shall I help you find anything?”

“Sheng-shidi, would you care to discuss the new technique Elder taught today?”

Lin Shijin received the stamped token and deliberately skirted the bustling crowd. A quick listen showed they were all trying to curry favour with Sheng Rufei. Many were female disciples, though there seemed to be even more males ones.

After all, Sheng Rufei was the original novel’s main shou, born with an uncanny ability to attract men. Firstly because of his unearthly looks; secondly because of his innate sword-bones*; and thirdly, perhaps, because of his cold, distant temperament.

(*TN: A person with sword-bones “剑骨” possesses a heaven-defying natural gift for swordsmanship and the Sword Dao. It’s not something they learned; it’s something they are.)

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but just as he passed, Sheng Rufei seemed to glance his way.

He pretended not to notice. Since Sheng Rufei insisted on pretending they barely knew each other in front of others, why should he be the one to stick warm face to cold backside? They weren’t close to begin with.

He had come to the library to look for books on soul-bonds. Fuguang, being the head of the immortal sects, housed one of the great relic-libraries of the Three Thousand Eras. It was practically the natural history archive of all those eras.

The collection was vast. Although Lin Shijin normally liked lively places, he disliked attention; upon entering he instinctively sought out the quieter corners.

Tier upon tier of heavy shelves made of stacked talismans stood before him. Each held only a title; place one’s stamped token upon it and the corresponding text would appear.

He was dazzled, searching shelf after shelf until, in the furthest corner, he found a section on soul-bonds. It was quiet enough that only the sound of his token tapping the seals could be heard.

These shelves were noticeably older; the talismanic script on them was faded. There were quite a few books on soul-bonds, but only one whose title included the characters for “marriage contract”.

He pressed his token to it. An ancient text entitled Marriage Contract materialised before him. The book was old, pages yellowed, the handwriting faint in places.

He opened it carefully. Long passages of text bored him. He much preferred picture-books, especially those with diagrams.

To his surprise and delight, the book indeed contained illustrations. Much easier to understand.

Though the ink was faded, the image was clear enough: a man of seductive beauty with fox ears stood beneath a peach tree, seemingly having lost several tails and looking on the brink of death.

Later, a second figure appeared. A monk, taller and more imposing than the fox spirit, apparently smitten at first sight.

The more Lin Shijin read, the more something felt… off.

He turned the page. The fox spirit and the monk were now in each other’s arms. The monk who was originally a chaste ascetic, had succumbed entirely, abandoning worldly ties to be with the fox spirit.

What on earth… a melodramatic cut-sleeve picture-book?

Lin Shijin’s eyelids twitched. The next page caught him completely unaware. It was a very explicit illustration. Curiously, this one was perfectly preserved, the ink crisp, as though the artist had drawn it in a fit of enthusiasm.

The fox spirit was held fully in the man’s arms, half-flushed, eyes brimming, fox ears drooping softly. His fingers looked as though they might snap under strain.

Lin Shijin: “!!!”

One part of him was screaming bloody hell how is this even allowed, the other was bright red from whatever that position was meant to be. The book slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a loud thud.

This sort of book… wasn’t banned?

Mortified yet far too curious, he sneaked a glance at the fallen book, his pale ears burning red.

Just as he bent to pick it up, he felt a cold shiver down his spine. Catching sight of a shadow from the corner of his eye, he instinctively shut the book and turned around.

As long as it wasn’t someone he knew, it wouldn’t be too awkward.

He turned… straight into Sheng Rufei’s stare.

Lin Shijin: “…”

The air froze. The book in his hands felt scalding, and he instinctively tried to hide it.

Sheng Rufei frowned slightly. He had clearly seen the previous page. His look all but spelled out the characters: Outrageously shameless.

Lin Shijin quickly realised. So what if he was reading smut? Sheng Rufei could control him in class, but not here.

So he turned back to his book and quickly flicked past the incriminating page.

Sheng Rufei’s gaze lingered on the youth’s fair, flushed earlobe. The youth glanced at him then immediately looked away, continuing to read. This was unlike his usual behaviour.

He seemed… angry.

He had made a mistake, been duly punished… leniently at that. and instead of correcting himself, he was sulking at him?

Before Lin Shijin had read more than two pages, the book snapped shut on its own. Sheng Rufei’s voice sounded beside him.

“Within Fuguang Sect, obscene and vulgar materials are forbidden.”

He watched helplessly as the book flew into Sheng Rufei’s hand. Already annoyed, he became furious.

“It’s from the library! I’m only browsing it! Are the library’s books not meant to be borrowed?”

Books that could not be borrowed were sealed on the upper floors. If it could be summoned, it should be borrowable.

Sheng Rufei didn’t even look at the scroll. He returned it to its shelf and added another layer of seal.

“I will inform the sect leader. From this moment, this text is forbidden.”

He gave Lin Shijin a cool glance. “If you read forbidden texts, you will be punished with confinement.”

Lin Shijin was speechless. Completely unreasonable! He hadn’t even finished half the thing. By now he was reading it for the plot! He had entirely forgotten he was here for soul-bond texts.

After being tormented like this, he had no interest in staying. Without another word, he snatched his stamped token and stormed off.

He had to break the soul-bond as soon as possible. Who on earth wanted to be tied to a lunatic like Sheng Rufei?

What use was good looks on someone so cold and inhuman? He could never possibly like him.

At the entrance, two disciples exchanged his token. Once he left, one glanced towards the first floor, puzzled.

“Wasn’t Sheng-shidi’s book already found? Where’s he gone?”

“I saw him head into the second-floor corner. No one’s usually there.”

Odd, since the texts he’d asked for were all on the first floor. But it wasn’t their business. When Sheng Rufei came down, they dutifully handed him his books.

Sheng Rufei remained where he was. The red thread around his wrist extended, and the tiny paper-figure reappeared, furious, bristling.

Kicking pebbles as he walked, the little figure looked rather wronged. He had bought snacks, taken them home, curled up on the soft couch, snacked through meditation, and grown bored enough to poke at a paper doll.

Sheng Rufei squinted at the crooked characters written on it:

—Sheng, you bastard.

Clearly, five hundred repetitions weren’t enough.

Lin Shijin’s calligraphy was atrocious. Crooked, slow. One copy of the sect rules was more than five hundred characters; in an hour he could only manage three or four pages.

After struggling all night, he hadn’t even completed ten. At half-past five the next morning he had to rise; exhausted during sword practice, he was punished with yet another set of rules.

He hadn’t even finished the first lot and another five hundred were added. Two thousand copies in total. It was terrifying even to imagine, let alone write.

More than ten days passed. His fingers had grown callused, yet he still hadn’t finished. When Feng Rugao summoned him, he hesitated for a long time before carrying the few hundred completed copies.

It was a thick stack. The handwriting was ugly, some parts smudged where he had fallen asleep while copying.

Lin Shijin knelt in the pitch-dark Changming Hall, faint red marks on his fingers from gripping his brush every night.

The hall was utterly silent save for the soft rustle of Feng Rugao turning pages.

As time passed, Lin Shijin’s mood sank to rock bottom. The silence felt like a blade at his throat. A wordless judgement hanging over him.