Lin Shijin had fainted for a full three days and three nights. To him, it felt as though he had only just blacked out and woken up moments later only to have Feng Qing inform him otherwise once he came to.
“Young Master, you were unconscious for three days and three nights. Sword Master was worried and hasn’t closed his eyes for the entire time.”
When he opened his eyes, he found himself back in his own courtyard. He tried moving his fingertips and noticed the faint marks left on his skin by the medicinal spring.
His fingertips no longer hurt, though he still felt utterly drained.
Freshly awake, his mind worked a little sluggishly. It took him a while before he clearly made out Feng Qing’s figure. Slowly, the memories of what had happened returned to him. He had fainted again in the medicinal pool.
“Shizun…” he rasped, voice hoarse, “What did Shizun say?”
He had managed to endure a quarter of an hour this time. Instinctively, he didn’t wish to recall his final, foolish actions; he would have no face to meet Feng Rugao for quite some time.
“Sword Master instructs Young Master to rest well. There is no need for you to go over for the time being. If the medicinal spring proves ineffective, Sword Master will think of other methods for Young Master.”
Lin Shijin felt relieved at first, but the latter half of the sentence made his heart leap back into his throat. Other methods for him?
No means of rapidly improving one’s cultivation was ever easy. Whatever other method existed would undoubtedly be painful.
He coughed twice by the bedside. Feng Qing poured him a cup of tea which was still steaming hot by the time it was brought over.
“Sword Master often troubles himself over Young Master. Young Master must not disappoint him.”
Lin Shijin thanked him, took the tea, and drank two small mouthfuls. His throat eased a little afterwards.
“I understand. Lord Feng, please convey my thanks to Shizun.”
Feng Qing did not reply. Seeing that he was awake and no longer in danger, his figure vanished from the spot. Most likely, he’d gone to report to Feng Rugao.
Left alone, Lin Shijin went to pour himself two more cups of tea. Since Feng Rugao had said he did not need to attend for now, he could at least put his mind at ease.
…
In Changming Hall.
Feng Qing returned from the side courtyard and delivered his report to the man seated upon the main seat. Concealed in the shadows, he spoke into the tranquil, echoing silence.
“Young Master’s constitution is indeed rather lacking… by right, it should not be so.”
Feng Rugao’s gaze was calm. He seemed to have thought of something before speaking. “I shall go to Jinyue Temple in a few days. While I am away, have Sixteen look after him.”
Hearing that Feng Rugao intended to leave Changming Hall, Feng Qing instinctively dropped to his knees. “My lord must not! If it is for this matter, I can go in your stead.”
But Feng Rugao’s decisions were never overturned. He said nothing more. After a long time kneeling, Feng Qing looked up… only to find the hall already empty.
The divine statue kept its eyes lowered, and the entire Changming Hall was steeped in silence.
…
Ever since Lin Shijin had been forbidden from visiting Changming Hall, his days had passed in perfect bliss. He rose early to practise swordsmanship, sat in the Sword Pavilion to listen to the elders’ lectures, and after class would play with Jing Qiuhong. The elders often rewarded him with oil-paper candies.
Sometimes they even brought him sugar figures.
“‘The Three Immortal Lords of the World’ refers to several great figures who appeared in our immortal sect a thousand years ago. I trust you have all heard of them. One of them is our Fuguang Sword Master, Lord Changming.”
“The Three Immortal Lords are first, Fuheng; second, Changming; and third, Shouque.”
“Lord Fuheng perished a thousand years ago; Lord Shouque has long been in seclusion and has not emerged. Of the three, only Lord Changming remains.”
The elder lectured on the sect’s history. Lin Shijin looked at the portraits printed in the ancient texts. There were idealised divine images whose simplified features made it impossible to recognise Feng Rugao.
He sat beside Jing Qiuhong. Now that Lin Shijin was paying attention in class, Jing Qiuhong followed suit. They were both reading from the same page.
Jing Qiuhong, too, was studying the deific portraits and their annotations, appearing especially focused.
To Lin Shijin, the three portraits looked nearly identical. He wondered what Jing Qiuhong was scrutinising. After staring at the first portrait for ages, Jing Qiuhong poked him.
Lin Shijin pretended not to notice. With a sword practically hanging over his head, he dared not chat during lessons. Feng Rugao would absolutely overwork him again.
He ignored him, but Jing Qiuhong poked him twice more. Lin Shijin finally looked over and whispered, “What?”
Jing Qiuhong pointed at the first deity’s portrait. The earlobe area was smudged, with a tiny shadow at the edge.
“He has a mole here in the same place as yours.”
Lin Shijin leaned in. He looked in the mirror often enough to know exactly where his own small earlobe mole lay. He quickly looked away.
It was too dark to see clearly.
“It’s nothing alike. And the elder is looking at us.”
These days, the elder always kept an eye on him. Lin Shijin felt like a sapling being nurtured. Whenever the elder looked at him, his eyes brimmed with affection.
As class was about to end, the elder did not leave immediately, but announced some news.
“In a few days, there will be a sect secret-realm assessment. This training will take place in Yixiu City, the ruins of the Three Thousand Worlds. Teams of three will be formed at random. Disciples from every peak must participate.”
Here in the Sword Pavilion were primarily sword cultivators, but also spell-refiners, scripture cultivators, and medicine cultivators. With every peak taking part, team assignments would be entirely down to luck.
Every year or two, disciples of Fuguang underwent assessments in such secret realms. These realms lay within Fuguang territory and were already cleared by elders, so there was no actual danger. However, completing the tasks was difficult.
Each assessment differed, and each group was usually assigned a different mission. Failure meant retaking the exam in the second half of the year.
Lin Shijin dimly recalled a segment from the original story: one of Fuguang’s many trials. Sheng Rufei had once again been coerced by Xue Ning in this very secret realm, given the strongest drug, and nearly driven to qi deviation.
The outcome had been ludicrously melodramatic. Sheng Rufei’s willpower triumphed; he did not succumb. Xue Ning, instead of being thwarted, admired him even more, and his fondness gradually intensifying into love.
All the potential male leads in the original had been dreadful individuals, yet each slowly changed after developing feelings for Sheng Rufei to become… miraculously normal.
But that story no longer existed. The plot had already galloped off like an untethered horse, and Xue Ning was no longer within Fuguang at all.
“Groups of three,” Jing Qiuhong said as he packed away the texts. “Hope we’re paired with someone strong. Otherwise, if we can’t complete the task, we’ll have to do the exam again.”
“The group list should be out this afternoon.”
Lin Shijin took it as it came, though he still hoped to be grouped with Sheng Rufei. After hearing Jing Qiuhong’s news, he had yet to test anything.
Usually, he had no opportunity to be overly intimate with Sheng Rufei. Whether Sheng Rufei was willing or not was another matter entirely. But if breaking the soul-bond truly required closeness… what then?
He shouldn’t think too far ahead. After class, seeing Sheng Rufei outside, he went over to walk with him.
Their paths did not align. Sheng Rufei was heading to Luoyun Peak, but Lin Shijin felt he should sound him out first.
“Shixiong—” he cleared his throat, glancing at the youth beside him. Sheng Rufei’s Daoist robe was always neatly fastened to the top; he held the Yinbing Sword, his features cold and striking.
Sheng Rufei lifted his gaze towards him. Lin Shijin organised his thoughts before tentatively asking, “Shixiong, I want to ask you something.”
“You said before that one shouldn’t undress before marriage. But… if there were unavoidable circumstances requiring one to undress, what should one do?”
Lin Shijin was speaking euphemistically. Given how conservative Sheng Rufei was, even revealing a bit of clothing was improper, let alone any intimate act that might help dissolve the soul-bond.
The youth’s eyes flickered. Lin Shijin recalled how Sheng Rufei used to visit Changming Hall daily, even spending time in the side hall.
A shadow fell beneath Sheng Rufei’s eyelashes; his gaze cooled. “Shizun asked you to undress for him?”
Lin Shijin blinked, thrown off. How had Sheng Rufei leapt to that? He immediately denied it, face flushing in irritation.
“Of course not.
“Shixiong, what are you talking about? Why would I undress for Shizun?”
Sheng Rufei fell silent again, his aura turning noticeably colder.
Normally, Changming Hall was shielded by a barrier. Even with a soul-bond between them, if Feng Rugao wished to conceal something, no one would perceive anything.
But the less he could see, the more his imagination supplied an image of Lin Shijin being held in his shizun’s arms.
And that thought alone was intolerable.
Seeing that the taciturn youth refused to speak again, Lin Shijin glanced at him twice before slowly asking, “Suppose—just suppose, Shixiong—that you were poisoned. The poison wouldn’t kill you immediately, but it would affect you. And the only way to cure it… is to kiss someone.”
He spoke shyly, cheeks reddening. “Would you be willing to kiss someone to cure the poison?”
Privately, Lin Shijin thought that if it were him, his life naturally came first. And a kiss…especially with Sheng Rufei, was hardly a big deal.
He looked at Sheng Rufei and found him staring back expressionlessly.
Sheng Rufei said, “Did you learn all this from picture-books?”
Those little illustrated storybooks were full of such plots: grave illnesses cured by intimate contact. They were outrageous when read… but quite different when applied to oneself.
And this was Sheng Rufei, who always adhered to his principles and would never do something he considered improper.
“No,” Lin Shijin murmured. “I was just asking casually.”
Seeing that Sheng Rufei was displeased, he felt aggrieved on his own behalf. What did it have to do with picture-books?
“Don’t ignore me.” Lin Shijin noticed Sheng Rufei walking faster, so he tugged lightly at his sleeve, pulling him back. He couldn’t let him escape so quickly.
Since this concerned the dissolution of their soul-bond, it was serious business indeed.
The youth’s pale, slender fingers hooked lightly onto his sleeve. Sheng Rufei paused, lowered his gaze slightly, and looked at him. His voice was low and cool.
“You’re asking me… whether I would be willing to perform intimate acts with someone else to cure the poison?”
Lin Shijin felt a touch uneasy under that stare. Sheng Rufei’s voice alone sent cold tingles down his spine.
“I would not,” Sheng Rufei said, eyes growing darker, voice like ice. “And you are not to engage in intimacy with others on a whim.”
“Not even if you’re poisoned.”
