Lin Shijin’s eyes lit up instinctively at the sound of Sheng Rufei’s voice. He grew so excited he was a breath away from tearfully crying out “Shixiong!”
But he was held fast and unable to make a sound. He felt Jun Yewu’s fingertips pressing lightly at his lower back, something sharp grazing over the spot. If he so much as uttered a word, he might well end up bleeding out on the spot.
He was still trapped in Jun Yewu’s arms, the red thread at his wrist still firmly attached. Sheng Rufei would certainly recognise him.
Lin Shijin was tense and unbearably anxious, and then belatedly he felt mortified. He was still wearing a skirt of all things; being held like this… could he be any more embarrassed?
He resigned himself with a sigh. He’d already made a spectacle of himself in front of Sheng Rufei more times than he could count. Sheng Rufei was aloof by nature; he wouldn’t laugh at him, let alone despise him.
Upon seeing Sheng Rufei, Jun Yewu’s gaze clearly shifted away from him, his eyes growing even hotter for an instant. He quickly smothered the expression, resuming his sickly, frail demeanour and coughing twice.
“I understand. We’ll come down at once.”
Jun Yewu’s fingertips brushed Shijin’s face. He had no idea that his face had been altered. He waited expectantly for Sheng Rufei’s reply, only to see Sheng Rufei’s gaze pause on him for barely a heartbeat before withdrawing and letting the curtain fall.
Lin Shijin: “!!!”
He stared, incredulous. He glanced down at the red thread on his wrist. It was still connected. Sheng Rufei couldn’t possibly have failed to recognise him. If he had recognised him, then why… why didn’t he do anything?
A muddle of grievance and anger welled up inside him. The two little figures in his head started bickering again.
One insisted that Sheng Rufei would save him. He wouldn’t possibly abandon him; it must be inconvenient right now, perhaps he had a plan.
The other scoffed, of course not. Perhaps Sheng Rufei simply didn’t want the trouble any more. Shijin was too weak, too easy to capture; rescuing him would be a bother. Maybe he simply didn’t want him.
Lin Shijin swayed hopelessly between the two. Jun Yewu held him upright, giving his cheek a warning stroke that held a very clear implication: behave.
“Do you think he can recognise you?”
Already fuming, Lin Shijin bit back at the deliberate taunt. Jun Yewu leaned close to whisper against his ear, “Even if he recognised you, he might not want to intervene. You were in my arms just now. Consorting with demons is a sin in the immortal sects.”
“You coerced me! My shixiong isn’t like that,” Lin Shijin muttered back, but when he met Jun Yewu’s eyes he shut his mouth again. His whole frame was stiff; he had no capacity to deal with Jun Yewu at all.
All he could think about was why Sheng Rufei was ignoring him. Sheng Rufei always disciplined him, yes, but he was also gentle in his own way. He wouldn’t leave him behind.
This was his only chance of rescue. If Sheng Rufei abandoned him, if no one recognised him, Jun Yewu would take him away. And being taken away meant daily ear-pulling, beatings, scolding, humiliation, being silenced. And possibly even being turned into a “beauty bone”.
Lin Shijin wanted nothing less than to follow Jun Yewu anywhere. The moment he alighted from the carriage, his gaze naturally sought out Sheng Rufei. But Jun Yewu stepped forward to block his line of sight.
“These are the tokens.”
Jun Yewu handed over two command tokens, still every inch the frail invalid, looking as though a stiff breeze would topple him.
None of the disciples nearby paid them any heed. The city had been under lockdown since the previous day. A handful of disciples stood guard alongside city soldiers. A barrier had been erected, preventing demonic creatures from entering.
It could stop ordinary demons, but not powerful ones.
Not someone like Jun Yewu.
Lin Shijin couldn’t tell if Jun Yewu was absolutely certain Sheng Rufei wouldn’t recognise him, or if he had some other hidden assurance.
He stared at Sheng Rufei as though willing flowers to bloom from him. The red thread at his wrist remained motionless. He could only look on pitifully, hoping his foolish shixiong would hurry up and take him away.
But even after completing identity checks, Sheng Rufei didn’t spare him a single glance. He seemed occupied with other matters, gave instructions to a few disciples, and departed.
In less than a quarter of an hour, Lin Shijin went from excitement and nerves to utter disbelief—from hope to utter hopelessness. He nearly shouted after him, watching helplessly as Sheng Rufei walked further and further away, the red thread tugging with each step, without ever turning back.
Sheng Rufei wasn’t going to save him.
He wasn’t just his fiancé or shidi. He’d even bought him pastries before… Even if there was some other explanation, he couldn’t stop himself overthinking. He stood there, dazed, for a long moment.
He had forgotten that Sheng Rufei possessed innate sword-bones and was cooler and more ruthless by nature than most.
Dazed and dejected, he followed Jun Yewu back into the carriage. He noticed Jun Yewu circle round the city several times, evidently wary of being followed, taut with vigilance.
Lin Shijin didn’t care. He was a puppet now, under Jun Yewu’s control, entirely unable to resist.
His mood sank lower still. He fretted over how he might escape. Before he could think further, the man beside him tugged sharply on his ear again.
“What is it? Feeling down?”
Jun Yewu watched the youth visibly droop, then reached out to ruffle his hair, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
“He wasn’t meant to recognise you. I made you look quite ugly earlier; naturally he wouldn’t.”
Jun Yewu seemed pleased with his own disguise work, though still cautious. He circled the city again before returning to the original road, only after confirming they were not being tailed. He had no idea about the soul-bond and the red thread… how they could sense each other’s presence.
Lin Shijin certainly wasn’t going to tell him. He dodged Jun Yewu’s hand and retreated to the corner, only to be pulled back again.
“Everyone likes a beauty. If you’re ugly, who would look at you twice?”
Jun Yewu’s hand ruffled his hair again. It felt soft… like the down of a small creature, as soft as his temperament.
None of this was remotely comforting. Lin Shijin ignored him, finding Jun Yewu unbearably irksome. Even if he refused to speak, Jun Yewu kept talking.
“But since I chose you, I won’t dislike you.”
Jun Yewu looked at him with a doting gaze that made Lin Shijin’s scalp prickle. He touched his face again, leaned close to his neck, his voice lazy.
“Talk to me. Anything at all.”
“What is there to talk about?” Lin Shijin muttered. Being in Jun Yewu’s grasp, being ordered to behave. He simply couldn’t. He glanced at Jun Yewu while speaking, his voice dropping.
He felt the sudden shift in Jun Yewu’s mood. His ear was tugged again painfully. He was dragged forward, staring helplessly at Jun Yewu.
He wanted to knock the hand away but didn’t dare, only showing the faintest flicker of defiance.
“Feeling quite aggrieved all day, are you?” Jun Yewu laughed, tugging his ear again. The pale ear flushed red, and the youth’s eyes reddened like a rabbit’s.
His skin was soft; though slim, he felt as though a single pinch might yield water. Playing with him might prove rather entertaining.
Jun Yewu’s gaze darkened. His fingers slid from the youth’s earlobe down to his cheek, the motion shifting into something else entirely.
“If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll strip you bare on the spot.”
Pain shot through Lin Shijin’s jaw. He jolted, quickly averting his gaze. He sat stiffly to one side, wary, and his lower back still ached.
Earlier, Jun Yewu had pressed a dagger to his lower back; every brush of fabric now stung. When he touched it lightly, the sharp pain made him hiss.
The carriage rumbled onward. Jun Yewu coughed twice. The noises outside thinned. Clearly they were leaving the busy streets. They changed clothes once more. Jun Yewu made him don men’s garments again.
They now looked like the young master and servant of a wealthy household, with Lin Shijin as the little master, Jun Yewu as the servant at his back, controlling him as they entered the inn.
Lin Shijin noted this inn was quieter, but still close to the main street. If he could get out, he could surely find his way back to the Fuguang disciples’ lodging.
“How many rooms would the young master like?”
Before he could speak, Jun Yewu replied, “One superior room,” tossing several spirit stones over.
Lin Shijin didn’t know what Jun Yewu was after, but he could guess he was up to something. Otherwise he wouldn’t have appeared at the city lord’s banquet.
They went upstairs together. His steps were stiff, his expression openly resentful. He kept glancing out the window, calculating the possibility of slipping away.
But the golden seal on his wrist remained. Even if he escaped, Jun Yewu would simply catch him again.
Inside the room, with no need to keep up appearances, Jun Yewu didn’t bother with him apart from forbidding him to speak. He himself sat at the table in the outer room.
Pastries were set out on the table. Lin Shijin sighed, fretting yet again over how to escape, his head aching with worry.
After a moment he consoled himself. At least he was unharmed for now. Even if Sheng Rufei didn’t come for him, he would escape on his own.
His gaze drifted to the pastries. He’d never seen anything like them. They were decorated with Rakshasa totems. The Rakshasa looked terrifying, yet eerily beautiful.
They must be a local speciality. He took one and tasted it. Sweet, with a hint of bitterness, and a cool aftertaste.
It was delicious. He took another.
Wondering how long he would still be fed pastries, he felt a gaze on him. He instinctively glanced toward the inner room. The screen between inner and outer rooms had been pushed aside.
He met Jun Yewu’s gaze gentle, unreadable directly. Who knew how long he’d been watching?
Lin Shijin dropped his pastry. “…”
*
Outside the city lord’s manor, the disciples stood in full alert. They had received a transmission. Jun Yewu had entered the city, and might infiltrate the manor by nightfall.
A magical artefact had gone missing and had yet to be found. Their mission was to recover it. The leading suspicion was Jun Yewu. He had been at the banquet; and artefacts in Rakshasa City were taboo for demonic beings to touch. Unable to carry it away, he must have hidden it.
His reappearance proved it. They suspected he had come to retrieve it.
“Sheng-shidi, calm yourself. Now is not the time to lose your composure,” one Fuguang disciple murmured.
Sheng Rufei had been staring in the direction the carriage had vanished, and the disciple feared he would act rashly on account of his shidi being taken hostage. If they alerted the quarry, their ambush would be ruined.
Sheng Rufei stared after the carriage, burying the emotion in his eyes. The image of the youth in the green skirt flashed through his mind; his fingers tightened slightly on his sword.
He gave a quiet “Mm,” and several times reached for the red thread in his hand before slowly withdrawing his hand again.
