Chapter 23: Desire To Possess

Although Lin Shijin hadn’t read many classical texts, he often chatted with Jing Qiuhong about cultivation, and the two of them had discussed bone refinement. Bone refining altered a disciple’s innate constitution; once completed, it greatly strengthened the body, and one’s cultivation would advance at remarkable speed.

Naturally, nothing so convenient came without a price. The process was torturously long, excruciatingly painful, and very few could endure it.

He was terrified of pain. He wouldn’t even soak in a cold spring, so how could he possibly withstand bone refinement?

Lin Shijin had assumed he would merely be punished with copying the sect rules. He hadn’t expected Feng Rugao to announce he would refine his bones directly. He was wholeheartedly unwilling, his lips immediately tightening.

“Shizun, this disciple knows his mistake. I’ll cultivate properly from now on. There’s no need for Shizun to trouble yourself refining my bones.”

He instinctively took a small step back, trying to put more distance between himself and Feng Rugao. He had always been afraid of him, and now that Feng Rugao was proposing bone refinement, he seemed no different from a great demon in Lin Shijin’s eyes.

“This matter is settled. Come after class tomorrow.”

Lin Shijin felt as though a wad of cotton had been stuffed into his chest, heavy and suffocating. He stood frozen on the spot, opened his mouth, and called again, very softly, “Shizun.”

His voice was low, tinged with pleading, his eyes clear and fixed on Feng Rugao with a faint, reluctant look.

Feng Rugao’s expression didn’t shift. He merely called, “Feng Qing.” Feng Qing emerged from the shadows, carrying something in his hands.

He handed all of it to Lin Shijin.

Lin Shijin glanced down. There were piles of spirit stones, and warm pastries besides. Feng Qing stuffed them all into his arms.

What was that supposed to mean? Did they really think he was that easy to coax?

As if spirit stones and pastries would make him agree!

The man seated above remained impassive. After a brief pause, he said, “This matter is not up for discussion.”

Lin Shijin’s face collapsed. He didn’t dare be angry with Feng Rugao, even though he was thoroughly unhappy. Feng Rugao always insisted it was “for his own good”. Why didn’t he ever ask whether he wanted it?

High-handed, domineering, completely unreasonable.

And being angry was pointless.

He fidgeted for a while longer, feeling he couldn’t just keep the spirit stones and pastries. If he accepted them, he’d be taking advantage of their generosity; how could he bargain afterwards?

So he pushed the spirit stones and pastries back towards Feng Rugao. It was only a little. But then, he was unwilling to part with them, and quietly drew them back towards himself.

Feng Qing: “…”

“Shizun, bone refinement hurts too much. I’m afraid of pain,” Lin Shijin whispered. “Didn’t you say that cultivation shouldn’t be rushed? I can take things slowly. I’ll definitely cultivate properly later.”

Bone refinement was nothing more than forcing a sapling to grow by yanking it upwards. And he was the sapling about to be yanked. Even if he became stronger, he would be left limp and half-dead.

Feng Rugao had never said any such thing; he’d made it up on the spot.

“Diligent cultivation is one thing. Bone refinement is equally important. You were captured this time because your cultivation is the lowest.”

Feng Rugao paused again, aware that his words might wound the boy’s pride, but continued anyway.

“Jun Yewu chose you because you are the weakest, the easiest to control.”

Soft, defenceless, obedient and easy to bully. How was he supposed to feel at ease letting such a child wander about?

Lin Shijin felt his heart shatter like glass. He might be lazy and slow, but he wasn’t without pride. Hearing that, a flush of shame and irritation climbed up his cheeks.

“That was a coincidence. Who says I’m the weakest?”

Feng Rugao said, “The bone refinement has been decided. If you’re still dissatisfied, you may copy the sect rules three thousand more times.”

At the words “three thousand,” Lin Shijin instantly fell silent, withering like a frost-beaten aubergine. He murmured a tiny “Oh.”

He bowed and said, “This disciple takes his leave,” then trudged out of Changming Hall still clutching the spirit stones and pastries, as if venting his indignation through them.

From behind, the young man looked rather forlorn, his steps lacking their usual bounce.

“With a temperament like that…” Feng Qing truly didn’t know what to say. Empty-headed as he was, perhaps it was precisely that sort of nature that made others instinctively indulge him.

Including his lord.

Lin Shijin slunk back to his own courtyard, hugging the spirit stones and pastries. On the way, he peeked at the pastries. They were shaped like little sheep, plump and cute. He tasted one; the sweet little cake melted at once on his tongue, and he felt as though flowers were blooming all around him.

So sweet. So very sweet.

He cheered up slightly. With these spirit stones, he could repay Sheng Rufei. Without thinking, he pushed tomorrow’s appointment at Feng Rugao’s hall to the back of his mind.

Back in his room, he dangled his legs by the bed and began counting the spirit stones. His storage pouch was full. He counted for ages without reaching the end. There were surely more than last time.

He no longer remembered how many spirit stones Sheng Rufei had given him before. He packed up a generous handful and decided to go find him.

Their courtyards were close. Lin Shijin knocked; no one answered. So he waited outside, wondering where Sheng Rufei had gone. Perhaps to practise his sword?

Sheng Rufei was so diligent, he thought idly. He waited for quite some time. It was nearly sunset by the time Sheng Rufei returned.

Catching sight of him from afar, Lin Shijin hurried over with the spirit stones. Up close, though, he froze.

Sheng Rufei’s body was covered with whip marks. There were scores of red welts criss-crossing his back, staining his robes with blood. The sight was shocking even through the fabric.

And this was only what could be seen. Whoever had wielded the whip had not held back. The side of Sheng Rufei’s neck bore another wound, the torn flesh showing where something barbed had ripped the skin open.

Sheng Rufei’s face was pale, though his striking features remained calm. Hearing movement, he lifted his eyelids and looked towards him. His gaze lingered faintly before he spoke, his voice hoarse.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to return the spirit stones.” Lin Shijin’s attention was wholly captured by the injuries. Just looking at them made him hurt.

“What happened to you? Did someone bully you?”

Sheng Rufei didn’t answer that. Instead, he said, “Keep the spirit stones.”

With that, he gripped his sword and returned to his courtyard. Lin Shijin, having been there many times, followed him in without ceremony.

“Shixiong, was it disciples from another peak who bullied you? If so, tell Shizun and get justice.”

Lin Shijin knew many disciples in Fuguang Peak admired Sheng Rufei. If they had used underhanded tricks on him again… Sheng Rufei’s wounds were so severe. How could he possibly endure this?

It was fine when he was reading the novel, but now the person before him was real, a living youth of only seventeen or eighteen.

Lin Shijin had never suffered serious punishment before. He didn’t know that disciples who breached sect rules were usually sent to the Hall of Cautious Punishment where even cultivators, tough as their bodies were, emerged with skin all but flayed.

“It has nothing to do with others. I made a mistake.”

Lin Shijin set the spirit stones on the table. Being naturally curious, he couldn’t help asking, “What mistake? Did Shizun punish you?”

He thought Sheng Rufei already did everything perfectly. He hadn’t expected Feng Rugao to punish him so harshly.

Sheng Rufei hummed softly, lifting his beautiful eyes towards him. “I did something wrong.”

“What mistake warrants something like this?” Lin Shijin muttered under his breath, eyelid twitching. He pointed at the wound on Sheng Rufei’s neck. “You’ve bled so much.”

Having come all this way, he couldn’t just stand there. So he found himself asking, “Shixiong, do you want me to bandage it for you?”

Sheng Rufei had been about to refuse, but remembering the boy bandaging others before, he swallowed his words. After a pause, he murmured, “Thank you.”

There were gauze and a celadon bottle on the table which likely contained medicine. Lin Shijin had only offered out of politeness; his bandaging skills were famously awful.

But words once spoken could not be taken back. So he said, “All right,” and moved a little stiffly.

“Shixiong, I might not bandage very well. If I touch your wound and it hurts, please tell me.”

Though he knew that wouldn’t help much, he silently prayed he wouldn’t be too clumsy.

He took up the medicine bottle. He recognised the haemostatic powder*. Feng Rugao had given him plenty, each carefully labelled and sorted.

(*TN: medicinal powders used to stop bleeding by absorbing fluid and creating a physical barrier that forms a clot.)

He stepped up to Sheng Rufei. Sheng Rufei was sitting; he stood. Sprinkling the powder on, the bleeding quickly stopped. He then attempted to wrap the bandage around Sheng Rufei’s neck twice.

Sheng Rufei suddenly asked, “Why didn’t you ask why, when you disappeared, I didn’t use the soul-bond to summon you back?”

He looked at the youth leaning close. The lad’s expression was earnest, intent on the wound as if it were on his own body; his face was lively with emotion.

It was something Shizun had asked him to consider.

He hadn’t meant to lose the youth, but when he learnt he was with Jun Yewu, he had hesitated. Out of caution, out of fear, out of calculations, he had used the lad as part of a greater plan rather than immediately summoning him back.

“Because I was with Jun Yewu,” Lin Shijin replied without much thought. “If you summoned me back and Jun Yewu came with me, wouldn’t that put the other disciples in danger?”

Lin Shijin knew Sheng Rufei valued the greater picture. The novel had described it clearly: for Sheng Rufei, slaying demons was always the top priority. Although he had been very upset at the time, thinking it through afterwards, he understood.

In that situation, even if Sheng Rufei had pulled him back with the soul-bond, with the golden seal on his wrist, Jun Yewu could still easily seize him.

Capturing Jun Yewu was the only way to resolve the matter.

Besides, Sheng Rufei was inherently cautious.

He himself had always been carefree, and Sheng Rufei treated him kindly. He was especially tolerant towards Sheng Rufei. Though, if he were still with Jun Yewu, he would absolutely be sulking and howling a hundred times that Sheng Rufei didn’t want him anymore.

“You never contacted me then, and I was very scared.”

Lin Shijin rubbed his own head and glanced at him. “I always seem to be dragging Shixiong down.”

He had walked through all of Sheng Rufei’s plot line and taking the blows on his behalf. He comforted himself by thinking that if he went through the story, Sheng Rufei would remain safe.

Candlelight flickered in the draught, and Sheng Rufei looked at the youth before him. He was gentle, clear-eyed, and simple in a way that seemed to radiate from his very bones.

So different from himself.

Other than revenge, he had never had anything he truly desired. Yet now, for the first time, he had something that belonged wholly to him.

—And instinctively, he wanted to keep it.