Lin Shijin had flung himself into Sheng Rufei’s arms. He had barely spoken to Sheng Rufei these last few days, bottling it all up until this day when they finally descended the mountain and all his scruples were gone.
The youth’s fingers came to rest at Sheng Rufei’s waist, brushing against a few strands of silver hair. Sheng Rufei lowered his gaze to him, eyes falling to the nape of his neck.
“The Love Lock has been undone?”
“Shizun unlocked it,” Lin Shijin said. “He said it would only be for one day, but after I threw the lock away, he didn’t mention it again.”
“I threw it into the pool. It’s very deep. I was worried Shizun would make me fish it back out…”
The sword clasps at Lin Shijin’s waist chimed softly. Noticing Sheng Rufei looking at them, he explained, “Shizun gave me these. He said they can sense demons and spirits, so I can avoid danger on Wuxiang Mountain.”
It was a pair of twin-fish clasps, the fish pearls carved exquisitely, gleaming with a faint, glassy lustre. Such craftsmanship clearly required no small effort.
Sheng Rufei examined the twin-fish clasps, sensing something. His fingertips brushed them, paused for a moment, then withdrew as though nothing were amiss.
Still curled against him, Lin Shijin noticed none of this. Now that they had left the city and he felt safe, he opened his chatterbox, recounting everything that had happened in the last few days.
Lin Shijin shifted a little away, suddenly aware he might be clinging too much. He sat a little farther off—though still close—his clear eyes reflecting Sheng Rufei’s profile. Once he began, he wouldn’t stop.
“Shixiong, you don’t know what it was like in Shizun’s hall. He controlled everything, even what I had to wear… he even changed my blanket to one he liked. Everything had to follow his instructions.”
“I was suffocating.”
“Sword practice. He said I could go only if he said so, and if he didn’t, then I couldn’t. He even punished me for being late once.”
“Now we’ve finally come out. Luckily Shizun can’t leave Changming Hall, or else—”
Lin Shijin stopped himself. If Feng Rugao learnt he was with Sheng Rufei again, he might drag him straight back. After all, Feng Rugao had warned him before they left.
He hesitated, then changed the subject. “Shixiong, what have you been doing these last few days?”
Sheng Rufei listened quietly to his rambling. When asked, he answered simply:
“Practising sword.”
“I knew it,” Lin Shijin murmured. “Shixiong must be practising as always, going to the Sword Pavilion every day.”
At these words, Sheng Rufei’s cool eyes shifted barely perceptibly; the corners of his lips tightened. Hidden in his sleeve was another pair of sword clasps… the ones he had carved during these days.
He had originally intended to give them to the youth once they left. But after seeing the pair Feng Rugao had made, his own instantly seemed dull and inferior by comparison.
“Shixiong, you’re hurt?” Lin Shijin, ever restless, noticed the small cuts on Sheng Rufei’s fingers, the scratches along the sides of his fingertips.
He caught Sheng Rufei’s wrist. Sheng Rufei tried to draw back, but the more he avoided it, the more Lin Shijin insisted. Curious, he asked, “How did you get all these?”
The youth held his hand softly, gently prodding at the wounds. Sheng Rufei’s fingers twitched. “I scraped them while practising sword.”
“How do you scrape your fingers practising sword?” Lin Shijin was sceptical. Sheng Rufei rarely bothered tending his wounds; several were new and un-bandaged.
Lin Shijin rummaged through his storage bag, pulled out a roll of bandage, glanced at Sheng Rufei, and asked, “Why didn’t you bandage it?”
“Troublesome,” Sheng Rufei replied.
“If you leave it, it’ll hurt when you knock it against something,” Lin Shijin said, baffled. He had always been terrified of pain. With nothing else to do now, he lifted Sheng Rufei’s hand onto his own lap.
“I’ll bandage it for you.”
Lin Shijin scooped out a bit of ointment with his fingertip. It was cool to the touch as he spread it over the wounds, then unrolled the bandage and wrapped it around Sheng Rufei’s injured fingers.
He worked very carefully, imitating how Sheng Rufei had once taught him to tie a bow. He tied it lightly; the resulting bow drooped awkwardly.
Sheng Rufei lowered his gaze, his fingertip touching the crooked bow. The youth beside him looked deeply pleased, his bright eyes curving as he poked him.
“Shixiong, look. Doesn’t it look much better now?
“It won’t hurt anymore.”
Lin Shijin looked up at Sheng Rufei, his expression unmistakable. He wanted his shixiong to praise him, even for such a small thing. And Sheng Rufei, as always, had never once failed to praise him for doing well.
“Mm,” Sheng Rufei looked at the rather ugly bow and said to him, “It doesn’t hurt anymore, and it looks quite charming.”
It was impossible to tell whether he was praising the bow or the person.
A faint flush crept across Lin Shijin’s face. That hazy, floating feeling rose again in his chest. It felt slightly sentimental. Bandaging a wound was hardly difficult, yet Sheng Rufei had praised him so earnestly for doing it well.
“Shixiong, if you’re injured in future, you can come to me. I can bandage you…”
Sheng Rufei sensed something and followed his gaze. The youth’s bright, clear eyes were shining; his cheeks were tinged pink, and his whole person radiated a quiet, bubbling happiness.
Only a fool would be so easily pleased.
Sheng Rufei said, “All right.”
“Shixiong, how many days will it take us to reach Wuxiang Mountain this time?” Lin Shijin produced the token in his hand, engraved with his name and Fuguang’s sword sigil.
“It depends. If people are eliminated along the way, it may take longer.”
Naturally, they would not be allowed entry into the Sword Ancestor’s place of origin so easily.
Sheng Rufei lifted the curtain and glanced outside. “We’ll reach Qiang City today and rest for a night. Tomorrow, we may need to travel through the night.”
Lin Shijin didn’t quite understand and asked, “Why travel through the night?”
“It’s safer to reach Buye City earlier,” Sheng Rufei said thoughtfully. “I checked the records from previous years. One year, some disciples were eliminated purely because of time. That year, a concealed time limit was given. Any who exceeded it were disqualified.”
Lin Shijin realised instantly. He tightened his grip on his token. Something he had told no one else came to mind. Something he felt he could confide in Sheng Rufei.
“Shixiong, Su Lian is coming with us this time as well.” Lin Shijin understood the elders’ decision. Su Lian’s cultivation was high, and he had always been valued; it was only natural he was sent too.
“Last time in Yixiu City…” Lin Shijin hesitated. “I’ve had the feeling Su Lian knows that Ye Lang is Xue Ning.”
“They seemed very familiar to me.”
Given Xue Ning’s temperament, if he had truly taken control of Su Lian, he would never have treated him in that manner.
As Lin Shijin was still mulling over this sense of wrongness, a hand brushed the top of his head. He looked up into Sheng Rufei’s eyes.
“I’ve had my doubts as well,” Sheng Rufei said quietly. “It’s indeed inappropriate for him to travel with us. If you end up on the same path later, try to keep your distance from him.”
“All right.” Lin Shijin’s hair had been ruffled slightly. His fingertips brushed his temple before he slowly withdrew his hand.
“If Su Lian-shixiong really is working with Xue Ning, the Sect Leader would be furious if he learnt of it.”
At these words, something flickered in Sheng Rufei’s gaze. “Their connection to the Sect Leader… well, it isn’t especially deep, but they are held in high regard.”
“They were originally disciples of Elder He Jin. Later, when Elder He Jin entered the mortal realm, the two transferred under the Sect Leader.”
Fuguang had many formidable elders. The peaks were clearly delineated. Some elders such as Elder Song were frequently seen. He had once placed second in the Sword Tournament, losing to Feng Rugao by a single move.
There was also their Sect Leader, Feng Wuping, whose sword qi had reached an astonishing level, well-known across all four peaks. And there were numerous eminent elders from Medicine Master Peak…
Others were seldom encountered, such as the Elder of the Shenxing Hall, reputed to be stern to the point of severity. Hardly any disciples had met him, for if they did, it was almost certainly because they had committed a grave offence.
Lin Shijin had only heard fragments. In truth, he knew little of the elders across the peaks. After listening, he said, “The two of them were together originally, so I suppose their relationship must be quite good.”
But before Xue Ning had betrayed the sect, he had never seen Xue Ning and Su Lian being particularly close.
“Mm,” Sheng Rufei murmured in agreement. “There may still be some contact between them.”
If so, then for Su Lian to deceive their peak’s elders, his identity was likely far from simple.
Lin Shijin sat beside Sheng Rufei. These matters hardly needed him to worry. With the clever and capable Sheng Rufei, he felt entirely at ease.
By dusk, they reached Qiang City. Cultivators inevitably attracted attention, so they disguised themselves as ordinary townsfolk, looking like a pair of brothers.
“Gentlemen, will you be staying at the inn? How many rooms?”
Sheng Rufei handed over some silver. He usually stayed in the simplest rooms, but he knew the youth would never manage a hard bed, nor the lack of snacks and incense.
“One top-tier room.”
The inn was lively. Lin Shijin noticed several men in hooded cloaks, swords hanging at their waists. These were men not to be trifled with.
“Shixiong, who are they?”
Lin Shijin tugged at a corner of Sheng Rufei’s sleeve. Sheng Rufei glanced over, did not answer immediately, but instead took his fingertips and led him upstairs.
Only when they had reached their room did Sheng Rufei say, “They were most likely Scourge-Slayer Envoys. They’re active near Ruhui City these days, which isn’t far from here.”
The scourge-slayers had also been dispatched to Wuxiang Mountain this time. They might even share the same route.
“Oh,” Lin Shijin said. He had only asked casually. Once inside the room, his attention was quickly claimed by its furnishings. A top-tier room was arranged quite differently: snacks and tea laid out on a carved table, orchid incense curling gently in the corner.
After setting his things down, he could no longer stay still and dragged Sheng Rufei downstairs.
“Shixiong, I saw wontons and floating dumplings downstairs. Shall we try them?”
Lin Shijin went over and found Sheng Rufei writing at the table. He glanced at the page. It was filled with trivial notes, scrawled carelessly. He had no idea why Sheng Rufei bothered recording such things.
He called him, and Sheng Rufei set down his brush and followed him out. Lin Shijin walked ahead, the red thread linking their wrists. If he walked too quickly, Sheng Rufei would give a light tug and draw him back.
He nearly backed straight into Sheng Rufei’s chest, so he slowed down. Curiously, he asked, “Shixiong, you can control the red thread. Apart from sensing my position, does it have any other use?”
Surely it wasn’t created solely to tie him up. That would be far too useless.
At the mention of this, Sheng Rufei paused a moment. “I’ve never tried, so I’m not sure.”
He looked at the youth, hesitated briefly, and said, “If you’re willing to let me test it, perhaps we’ll discover something else.”
