Lin Shijin’s back went rigid; he didn’t dare move an inch. How could he possibly sleep in circumstances like these? Never mind having to stay on guard against Ye Lang. Amongst the demon clans, the two of them were natural enemies.
Who could fall asleep beside their natural enemy? Wouldn’t they worry about being eaten halfway through the night?
He certainly couldn’t sleep. The youth behind him, who had at first simply been holding him, gradually changed his manner. Lin Shijin could feel a deep, unsettling gaze resting on him, sending a prickling chill over his skin.
He nearly fainted again. Inch by inch, he tried to shuffle away, attempting to put even the slightest distance between them—only to be pulled straight back.
An arm was slung firmly across his waist. Lin Shijin’s back was pressed against a warm chest; heat rose up his spine. The other spoke close by his ear, voice dropping low.
“Don’t wriggle. Or I’ll peel your rabbit hide.”
Lin Shijin froze, obedient as a stone, not daring so much as a twitch. Breath brushed his ear, making him even more uncomfortable; his rabbit ears flinched, then drooped pitifully atop his head.
Staring wide-eyed at the wall before him, he could clearly see the stone-carved murals upon it. This place had been converted from a cavern; the walls were sheer slabs of rock, carved with images of demon immortals.
Unlike the statues outside the hall that were smiling figures with their eyes pressed shut, the ones in here had their eyes open.
The demon immortal bore a kindly face, yet its eyes were pitch dark and hollow, like bottomless pools in the earth, as though they could swallow a person whole. In its hands it held a bronze basin of flame; the smile upon its lips was eerie, strange scripture swirling around it, lending it an air both sacred and frightening.
And the way Lin Shijin lay now meant he was facing the mural directly. It seemed as though he could meet the immortal’s gaze across the empty space. His skin crawled.
He looked away after a moment, but the more terrified he felt, the more he couldn’t help but glance back.
Just a moment ago, the demon immortal had seemed some distance away. Whether it was a trick of the eye or not, now it looked far nearer.
Near enough that he could stretch out a hand and touch the carving; near enough to see its features clearly. Despite having a man’s face, the demon immortal wore a woman’s dress, the overall form strangely androgynous.
Lin Shijin’s heart hammered. He stared at the statue. Earlier, the immortal had been standing straight, gazing forwards.
Now its upper body was inclined slightly towards him, benevolent gaze tilted in his direction, lips holding a faint, knowing smile… as though it was looking right at him on the bed.
Goosebumps shot over Lin Shijin’s limbs. He no longer doubted it. This statue really could move.
He didn’t care about Ye Lang anymore. He tried shifting again and found that the control Ye Lang had placed on him had already been lifted.
“Oi…” Lin Shijin turned his head. The youth behind him had his eyes shut, breath steady and fast asleep. He had actually managed to fall asleep that quickly.
The stone hall was deathly still, still enough that it felt as though time itself had stopped. The pounding of Lin Shijin’s heart quickened. An ominous feeling curled coldly up his spine.
“Wake up… Ye Lang?” He had first wondered if he was trapped in a nightmare. When he moved, Ye Lang’s hand was still locked around his waist, refusing to let go. Helpless, Lin Shijin could at least confirm that this was indeed Ye Lang.
By any logic, Ye Lang should not have fallen asleep so fast. He nudged him twice, but Ye Lang didn’t stir. Anxiety tightening in his chest, Lin Shijin cast a glance back at the mural.
What had been a single demon immortal was now accompanied by many beast-headed, human-bodied guards figure clutching long halberds, their cold gazes levelled upon him and Ye Lang. The halberd-blades gleamed sharply.
Lin Shijin felt as though those blades were angled straight at them. A chill spread across his back; his heart, instead of racing, began to slow. He shoved at Ye Lang again, calling his name as he kept one eye on the mural.
“Ye Lang… wake up. We’re in danger.”
“Ye Lang…”
Lin Shijin was on the verge of coughing blood. Ye Lang slept like a dead pig, utterly unresponsive. Worse, he clung stubbornly to him, making escape impossible.
He risked another look. The demon immortal in the mural was smiling now, black mist billowing endlessly behind it. The guards’ faces were already vanishing into the haze.
“Pa!” Desperate, Lin Shijin gritted his teeth. He hesitated and then slapped Ye Lang across the face. The sharp sting travelled up his own fingers, and the human-skin mask on Ye Lang’s face wrinkled from the blow.
The silence that followed was absolute. At last the youth on the bed opened his eyes. Darkness simmered within them along with a thread of killing intent. His grip tightened; Lin Shijin’s waist nearly snapped.
“You…” Pain shot through Lin Shijin’s lower back. His ears flattened with fright. He whispered, “Look at the mural. The demon immortal is moving.”
Ye Lang’s expression sank. His fingers brushed Lin Shijin’s neck; for a heartbeat, he truly considered killing him. But at the words, he suppressed the impulse and glanced at the wall.
The demon immortal was perfectly still again, smiling benevolently amidst the black mist.
Lin Shijin looked as well… only to find the mural exactly as it had been at the start. Normal. Harmless. No trace of movement.
“It wasn’t like this just now… It really moved, and there were guards behind it.”
He was certain he hadn’t imagined it. Something was wrong with this mural.
“You slept like the dead. I couldn’t wake you at all. It must be the mural doing something…”
He trailed off. The mural behaved normally now, but the youth before him clearly did not. Ye Lang stared at him, lips slowly curling.
Pinned firmly in place, Lin Shijin could only watch as Ye Lang leaned close, fingers gripping his chin, eyes glacial.
“Are you amusing yourself at my expense?”
Lin Shijin shook his head. He tried to speak, but Ye Lang brushed a fingertip against his lips. His words caught in his throat.
“Mmm—mmph—”
“Do you truly think,” Ye Lang murmured, voice low, fingers sliding along his neck, eyes full of predatory violence, “that I wouldn’t kill you?”
Lin Shijin stiffened all over, eyes widening. He had thought Ye Lang merely mischievous, though he hadn’t expected him to genuinely consider killing him.
He could feel the killing intent. The pressure at his throat tightened, choking his breath.
Then Ye Lang abruptly released him. His expression steadied. Forming a seal with his fingers, he summoned ropes that coiled around Lin Shijin’s limbs, then vanished.
The ropes were tight, biting into his wrists. The hall was utterly silent. Lin Shijin slumped against the wall, heart hammering. Thinking of the moving demon immortal chilled him anew; it felt like cold breath was being blown against his ear.
Something was wrong with this demon city. He was sure of it.
He struggled vainly. The ropes only constricted, making his wrists throb.
A shadow fell over him again. Ye Lang had returned.
The gloom had left his eyes. His expression was back to its usual careless arrogance. After staring a moment, he reached down and tugged Lin Shijin’s ear.
“Who gave you the nerve to slap me?”
Lin Shijin curled up in the corner, meek as a scolded rabbit. He didn’t dare protest. Inwardly, he thought indignantly that he might have saved Ye Lang’s life.
After all, the mural had stopped moving once Ye Lang woke; and Ye Lang’s deep sleep had been far too strange.
It all felt like a setup.
“I didn’t mean it,” Lin Shijin whispered. “I panicked. The demon immortal really was moving. And there were guards trying to stab us…”
“You wouldn’t wake up. I was scared on my own.”
Ye Lang looked at him. Those drooping ears, the grievance in his eyes, the way he shrank further into the corner, lips drawn tight.
He looked pitiful. Implausibly pitiful. If he was lying, the performance was impeccable.
But this pathetic rabbit didn’t seem capable of such guile.
Still, Ye Lang had no intention of letting him off.
Lin Shijin’s heart thudded painfully, like a blade hanging over his head. He strained his ears, but Ye Lang said nothing.
Instead, he heard footsteps. Ye Lang had gone to the gilded stand, poured a cup of tea, and returned.
He pinched Lin Shijin’s chin once more. Lin Shijin shrank back instinctively, jaw clenched. Even if this wasn’t poison, it certainly wouldn’t be anything good.
“Do you want me to feed you by mouth?”
Ye Lang’s grip tightened slightly as he pressed the cup to Lin Shijin’s lips. A sweet, cloying scent wafted up. Tea trickled down the corner of his mouth; some slipped between his teeth.
This medicine had originally been prepared for Sheng Rufei, but since he was dealing with this troublesome rabbit today…
He might as well test it on him.
Lin Shijin tried to turn his head, but Ye Lang held him in place. Forced to swallow, he spluttered and coughed twice, chest trembling. Only once he’d choked the tea down did Ye Lang release him.
“Mm…”
He coughed repeatedly, voice rough, lips still damp with tea. “What did you make me drink?”
Already, the rabbit’s ears had gone faintly pink. Ye Lang sat off to the side with an unreadable air, pouring himself another cup.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
He undid the ropes. This medicine was the strongest variety, and designed to drag out the deepest desires from one’s heart. A rabbit demon was naturally lustful; he expected this one to come crawling off the bed before long.
If he begged prettily enough, Ye Lang might even forgive the slap.
But the moment Lin Shijin was released, a wave of dizziness washed over him. His limbs went soft and useless. Even freed, he hadn’t the strength to get up.
His vision blurred. He felt sleepy, thirsty, and ravenously hungry all at once. He’d been fine moments earlier. Why was he suddenly so exhausted?
For the past month he’d been training swordsmanship with Sheng Rufei, waking before dawn every day. He hadn’t slept properly in weeks. Now, drowsiness crashed over him like a tidal wave.
Not only sleepy… hungry. Terribly hungry. He wanted the pastries Sheng Rufei had bought him, the divine herb they’d eaten earlier, even Feng Rugao’s spirit-crane soup.
And he was thirsty. Tea. Sweet tea…
Half-consciously torn between sleepiness, hunger, and thirst, his gaze drifted towards the divine herb on the table before Ye Lang. He stared fixedly. The herb looked fresh and succulent. He wanted a bite so badly.
His stomach growled loudly. Why was he suddenly starving? Had Ye Lang given him some digestive tea?
On purpose? To leave him hungry afterwards? How vicious…
His thoughts spiralled uselessly; his eyes spun in circles; his whole body felt airy and light. He might faint from hunger.
Ye Lang noticed the way the youth stared straight at him from the bed. He let out a soft, derisive laugh and remained seated.
He waited for the rabbit to crawl over to him.
Look at that hungry, dazed stare. He could already imagine how the rabbit would beg. The youth, cheeks tinged pink, rabbit ears drooping sweetly, lifting his pretty face with soft, pleading eyes, kneeling at his side asking for the slightest touch.
—If the rabbit begged until he was satisfied, he wouldn’t mind indulging him.
*
Author’s note:
Lin Mianmian: Just you wait. Next chapter you’ll regret it.
