Chapter 14: Jealous

Lin Shijin was so terrified, he felt that his soul would leave his body. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and his steps turned unsteady.

The man’s fingertips brushed the skin at the back of his neck, raising a wave of goosebumps. He froze on the spot as those fingertips slid upwards to the edge of his chin.

“Your face is rather fine. It might do nicely for a beauty bone.”

He had still been unsure of the man’s identity, but with that sentence he understood almost immediately.

The three most popular “stock-investor gongs” in “Young Rufei” were Xue Ning, Jun Yewu, and Cui Haoxue, each wildly different in temperament. Xue Ning was vicious and flamboyant, Jun Yewu perverse and hypocritical, while Cui Haoxue appeared steady but was obsessive to the core.

The one who had left the deepest impression on him was Jun Yewu. As the Demon Saint Lord, Jun Yewu’s greatest hobby was collecting beauty bones. He adored the beautiful, and even more so loved watching their agonised expressions as they struggled on the brink of death.

Not only that. The way Jun Yewu “liked” people was twisted to an extreme. He had fallen for Sheng Rufei at first sight, and after that, devoted himself to tormenting him, nearly driving him to die together with him.

In the original novel, Sheng Rufei had been imprisoned by Jun Yewu for some time. When he finally escaped, he was barely recognisable, which only strengthened his resolve to cultivate.

After all, their cultivation levels were worlds apart. Jun Yewu, a demonic sovereign who had been cultivating for nearly three centuries, was comparable even to Feng Rugao.

This was also why, despite a bounty of two hundred thousand spirit stones, no one had managed to capture him for so many years.

But none of that was the point. The point was that none of this appeared in the original story. The plot had veered off the rails the moment he showed up before Xue Ning and Sheng Rufei, but this deviation was far too drastic.

Lin Shijin felt his luck was abysmal. He had only gone out to buy a snack and managed to run into a great demon. And now, for merely looking at a beauty twice during a banquet, he had been lured away.

Why did he need him to seduce Sheng Rufei? To capture him?

Whichever it was, he wanted no part of it. Half-angry, half-frozen with fear, he wondered whether the plot had shifted from Sheng Rufei onto him.

He didn’t want to be turned into a beauty bone. Just imagining it made him ache.

Lin Shijin resisted inwardly, but his body was under Jun Yewu’s control, moving towards Sheng Rufei of its own accord.

He had no idea why Jun Yewu had appeared here. His heart thudded wildly; his eyes stayed fixed on Sheng Rufei as he desperately tried to think of a way to warn him.

“Don’t play tricks, or…”

Jun Yewu’s fingertips brushed the back of his neck with ambiguous leisure, his voice low. “I’ll peel that lovely face off and let you die very, very ugly.”

Lin Shijin didn’t dare turn around. He was being controlled, he couldn’t anyway. His heart had iced over entirely; hearing that threat, his helpless legs trembled.

His mind, against his will, conjured an image of his face being peeled off. He opened his mouth to call for help but couldn’t produce a sound.

Jun Yewu had only spoken casually; upon noticing how pale the youth went, and how his legs were shaking, he gave a soft, amused laugh and stroked the youth’s cheek.

“Be good, and perhaps I’ll let you go later.”

As if he had a choice. He’d just been promised no harm would come to him. Lies, all of it.

Lin Shijin grew frantic. Each step felt like he moved closer to death. Jun Yewu was so near he could smell the faint tang of blood. He suddenly remembered. Jun Yewu excelled in soul-capturing techniques.

Those of weak will were easily controlled. Did this mean his will wasn’t strong enough?

But in the original novel, Sheng Rufei had also been controlled. Jun Yewu’s techniques were unparalleled. Sheng Rufei had even been ready to destroy his own cultivation to break free, and Jun Yewu, pained by it, had reluctantly released him.

Lin Shijin thought bleakly. He was not Sheng Rufei. Jun Yewu would never feel sorry for him.

Threaten him by destroying his own cultivation?

He pressed his lips together silently. He didn’t even know how to destroy his own cultivation. Besides, why should he do something so drastic because of this perverted lunatic?

Across the crowd, Lin Shijin caught Sheng Rufei’s gaze. He moved towards him, his heart filled with desperate hope that Sheng Rufei would notice the person standing behind him.

Their gazes met in mid-air. Sheng Rufei’s eyes lingered for a moment before sliding away, apparently reassured that the red thread on their wrists remained intact and within view.

Lin Shijin, who only moments ago had been brimming with hope, could only think: “…”

He nearly spat blood, his face flushing in panic and frustration.

That idiot Sheng Rufei! Normally so vigilant. Why hasn’t he noticed someone behind him aaaaaa?!

Utterly useless shixiong.

Lin Shijin fumed, though he quickly noticed Sheng Rufei still glanced his way now and then. The red thread at his wrist gave him a tug, as though urging him to hurry.

If only his body were his own. He would have sprinted straight to Sheng Rufei and run off with him at once.

Sheng Rufei had already been paying him some attention. Seeing the lad suddenly return obediently, his lips tightened slightly, and the cold air around him softened.

He glanced over now and then.

Lin Shijin finally reached him. His limbs felt stiff; being controlled was an unbearable sensation. Perhaps because his cultivation was low. People always picked the softest persimmon.

And he was indeed the softest persimmon.

“Sixteenth shixiong…”

The words “Save me” barely formed before his voice was cut off again. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but Sheng Rufei seemed less icy than usual.

Sheng Rufei had placed a pile of snacks on his seat. Lin Shijin glanced at them and understood. They could be eaten.

As if he had the mood for snacks now. Jun Yewu gave a small laugh behind him, his tone full of mockery.

The man’s target was definitely Sheng Rufei. He didn’t know the reason, but he didn’t want Sheng Rufei dragged into it.

“Go… sit on his lap.”

Jun Yewu whispered in his ear. Lin Shijin was still trying to find a way to warn Sheng Rufei, face flushed red, staring at him as though willing him to understand.

He understood now. Jun Yewu definitely meant to control Sheng Rufei. Obvious enough. Firstly, Sheng Rufei’s cultivation was the highest present. Control him, and the rest of the disciples would be easy.

Secondly, Jun Yewu probably fancied Sheng Rufei. Taking him by force would be difficult. Controlling him would be far simpler.

Not to mention the number of disciples watching. If he sat on Sheng Rufei’s lap, the humiliation would be immeasurable. Why should he obey?

He absolutely would not do something so mortifying.

The moment this thought arose, Jun Yewu seemed to sense it and pinched his ear. It hurts. He winced and immediately caved.

“I-I know…” he whispered weakly, wanting to cup his ear but unable to move.

“Sixteenth shixiong, I…I need to tell you something.”

Sheng Rufei looked at him; the youth’s eyes were fixed earnestly on him, his face faintly flushed. Sheng Rufei’s gaze drifted to his earlobe, where a finger-shaped mark had appeared.

As though someone had pinched it harshly.

“I…” Lin Shijin was pushed a step forward, now so close that Sheng Rufei’s face filled his vision. He trembled, legs weak with fear, while scrambling for one last chance.

“Could I…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the last words. Before he could finish, Sheng Rufei suddenly gripped his wrist.

In that instant, his expression turned glacial. He yanked Lin Shijin forward; instinctively, Lin Shijin stumbled.

There was loud crash. An entire table split cleanly in two. He fell into Sheng Rufei’s arms. Sheng Rufei’s other hand gripped his sheathed sword, a blast of sword qi streaking through the table and cracking the ground where Lin Shijin had just stood.

Sheng Rufei wrapped an arm around his waist, and they vanished from their spot in a heartbeat. Lin Shijin’s face had gone white; he’d thought he was dead for sure. As they lifted off the ground, he instinctively clung tightly to Sheng Rufei.

“Sheng-shidi!”

A disciple’s shout echoed from a distance. Sheng Rufei set him down somewhere safe, his expression dark and icy. “There is a demon in disguise at the banquet. It has yet to reveal its form.”

His words threw the entire banquet into chaos. Su Lian reacted instantly, casting a barrier; swords were drawn in unison.

Lin Shijin was still shaken. He could no longer sense Jun Yewu. It seemed like he’d left from the moment Sheng Rufei pulled him away.

A breath of relief escaped him. Thankfully, Sheng Rufei noticed something amiss in time.

Standing behind Sheng Rufei, he tugged lightly at his sleeve, stealing a glance at his expression. Sheng Rufei’s usually cold face now bore a darker, more dangerous edge.

Lin Shijin felt that Sheng Rufei was the truly endangered one. Jun Yewu’s target was him, and yet Sheng Rufei was standing in front, shielding him.

“Shixiong, perhaps we should go to Su Lian-shixiong. That zither player earlier was the demon. He might be targeting you.”

He continued to tug lightly at Sheng Rufei’s sleeve, unwilling to stray too far. Sheng Rufei might be icy, but he was utterly reliable in critical moments like this.

Lin Shijin’s heart had yet to settle. He maintained a façade of composure, but his pale, slender fingertips clutching Sheng Rufei’s sleeve gave him away. They trembled faintly.

The youth Sheng Rufei was holding turned his head. Sheng Rufei’s gaze dropped to Lin Shijin’s neck, his eyes darkening, his voice like frost.

“He touched you?”

…

Author’s Note:

Sheng Rufei: I’m born with sword-bones. I’m cold-hearted. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get jealous.