Sheng Rufei sensed the unease of the youth in his arms. With his fingertips he loosened the silk covering him, revealing a pair of slightly damp eyes.
“I wasn’t ignoring you.”
He had no idea how to comfort him. Noticing the youth shrinking further into his embrace, he brushed a fallen strand of hair.
“It’s all right now. The red thread’s already been withdrawn.” Sheng Rufei’s tone was a touch stiff; he truly didn’t know how to soothe him.
The youth looked utterly miserable, pale-faced and clutching stubbornly at his robes.
Sheng Rufei felt as though someone had poked a hole in his icy heart and melted it. He rubbed the top of the youth’s head since he didn’t know what else to do.
Usually, a gentle rub was enough to make the youth beam, even rub his cheek against his palm and coquettishly demand attention. Today was clearly different.
He lowered his gaze to the red thread still coiled at his wrist. Perhaps the soul-bond was affecting him… he looked terribly insecure.
Lin Shijin noticed that this wooden block of a man only repeated the same few actions: patting his head, pinching his ear, tossing him a rare word or two of comfort, and nothing more.
“It still hurts even though you took it back,” Lin Shijin muttered, voice muffled. “It’s all because of Shixiong. Shixiong must take responsibility.”
Sheng Rufei’s lips drew taut. He really had no means of dealing with him.
“What do you want?”
The cold voice held a trace of indulgence.
Who even asks such a thing? Lin Shijin had never been close to anyone before, true, but he had read picture-books. Only a fool would ask. Shouldn’t he take the initiative?
“How would I know?” Lin Shijin hugged him tightly. The pain eased in Sheng Rufei’s arms, and with him clinging like this, Sheng Rufei naturally couldn’t continue reading.
In the end, he simply lay with him until he slept.
Lin Shijin was perpetually tired, a hollow feeling lingering in his chest. He didn’t want to leave Sheng Rufei’s side; being close to him made the emptiness ease a little.
He’d always clung like an octopus, but Sheng Rufei normally kept him at some distance, holding his wrist to shift him back a little.
“I’ll stay with you today. I’m not going anywhere,” Sheng Rufei told him. The youth was sticking too close; he feared he might not be able to restrain himself.
“You say that, but I wouldn’t even know if you left.” The more Sheng Rufei tried to keep his distance, the tighter Lin Shijin wanted to cling. He touched Sheng Rufei’s fingertips, nuzzling his shoulder.
The bed was large enough for two. Pressed together, breath mingling, Lin Shijin felt a little more at ease.
“Shixiong said earlier he’d do whatever I wanted.” Lin Shijin looked up at him, his gaze landing on Sheng Rufei’s lips. His silver-white hair spilled around him; his cold features held an expression of strained restraint. Lin Shijin, thick-skinned as ever, assumed Sheng Rufei disliked him. If others disliked him, he couldn’t care less. But Sheng Rufei was different.
“If you don’t want to be with me, then I’ll stay away,” he murmured, reluctantly loosening his grip.
“It isn’t that.” Sheng Rufei cut in at once. His eyes reflected the youth’s face. He felt he had exhausted a lifetime of patience on this youth, who remained blissfully unaware of danger yet insisted on teasing him.
“Do you not realise… you can’t just be this close to anyone?”
Especially not a man. A youth this soft and affectionate would awaken cravings in anyone. No one could withstand it.
Lin Shijin of course knew. He whispered, “Of course I know. But Shixiong isn’t like other people. I like Shixiong.”
The final syllables softened, his fingers still tugging at Sheng Rufei’s robes, eyes fixed earnestly on him.
Sheng Rufei’s eyes darkened slightly. He asked, “What kind of liking? Do you truly know the difference?”
“Am I more important, or the snacks?”
“Am I more important, or your little picture-books?”
His voice was cool, each word laced with interrogation.
Lin Shijin was stumped. He knew Sheng Rufei was special to him, but to openly admit it was romantic affection… something still held him back.
There were other concerns, perhaps shaped by Sheng Rufei himself. Such a promise shouldn’t be made lightly.
Never mind that he’d transmigrated; both of them had secrets, there was Feng Rugao’s warning, and countless confusions he had yet to unravel.
And if something happened to him, what would become of Sheng Rufei?
Despite all his misgivings, he still couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help liking this block of wood.
But was the wood more important than snacks or picture-books?
“Why must you compare them? Snacks and picture-books are innocent,” Lin Shijin hedged. He couldn’t rank them, and he was rubbish at lying to Sheng Rufei, so this was all he could say.
His answer made Sheng Rufei’s expression shift. Lowering his eyes slightly, he said coldly, “So you’re saying they’re more important than I am.”
Lin Shijin: “…”
“That’s not what I meant.” He met Sheng Rufei’s gaze. “Of course they can’t compare.”
“Shixiong is the most important to me.”
In his nervousness he blurted out yet another sweet nothing. The fingers he held stiffened slightly; he accidentally brushed Sheng Rufei’s ear and found it hot.
Relieved, Lin Shijin held him close. From this angle he could see the corner of Sheng Rufei’s mouth; something about it tempted him, made him want to lean in and kiss him.
He quashed the impulse at once, refusing to overthink it. Sleepiness crept back in, but he still managed to ask, “Shixiong, why does it hurt when the soul-bond links to my heart?”
“Does it hurt for you too?”
Sheng Rufei was wholly focused on him, terrified he’d move and brush against him again. His body stiffened as he recalled the sensation.
He had felt no pain, only an overwhelming surge of control, as though the youth had utterly yielded to him. It was intoxicating.
The urge to dominate him, to make him submit, to have him see no one but him. Every suppressed shadowy desire surged up in an instant.
But when he saw the youth panicked, searching for him, crying in pain, all of it had evaporated.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Sheng Rufei answered. After a pause, he added, “Normally, a soul-bond in a marriage contract strengthens the emotional bond.”
But clearly, this one was not so simple; it might even harm the other party.
“Then what do we do?” Lin Shijin yawned, sleep tugging at him. He instinctively burrowed deeper into Sheng Rufei’s arms, luxuriating in comfort.
Sheng Rufei didn’t reply. He had already formed a plan, and it was to test everything on himself first. Unless he was completely certain, he would not allow the youth to try it again.
As he pondered this, the youth snuggled closer still. His breath warmed Sheng Rufei’s skin; his fingers tugged lightly at his robes; his cheek brushed his chin.
“Lin Shijin…” Sheng Rufei said at last, taut with restraint. He wanted to push him away but feared upsetting him.
Lin Shijin heard the youth’s cold voice. He was a little drowsy and already knew what Sheng Rufei was calling him for. He gave a token little wriggle and, with that small movement, felt something.
His head was still muzzy; he hadn’t fully caught up. A strange sensation filtered through his under-robe, making him go slack almost at once.
Lin Shijin snapped a little more awake, and his entire face flushed. Bewildered, he stammered, “Shixiong, you…”
The air grew abruptly taut. Before he could finish, Sheng Rufei pushed him aside… lightly, but firmly.
He lifted his gaze and met the depths of Sheng Rufei’s eyes. Sheng Rufei closed them a fraction and said, “Keep your distance.”
Lin Shijin went still as a mouse. He didn’t dare utter another word. There was a faint prickle of danger about it. He recalled the last time Sheng Rufei had said those words. He’d been pinned to the ground and kissed, utterly unable to resist.
Feeling inexplicably guilty, he shuffled a little, sneaking a glance at Sheng Rufei’s expression. Then he furtively peered into the blankets, curiosity getting the better of him.
He saw nothing. When he surfaced from the covers again, he found himself face-to-face with Sheng Rufei’s gaze. There was some unreadable flicker in those eyes that made his heart skitter; his shixiong was rather frightening like this.
Lin Shijin was always the first to surrender. He hugged his blanket and edged even farther away, murmuring, “Shixiong, I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“If you’re uncomfortable, deal with it yourself. I won’t tell anyone.”
Lin Shijin rarely had such needs, and in any case, he doubted Sheng Rufei would appreciate his clumsy attempt at advice.
Sheng Rufei said nothing for quite some time. Lin Shijin sneaked another look and saw the quilt lifted ever so slightly. His eyelids twitched; he whipped his head back around.
He could actually lift the blanket like that… Yet in the original story, Sheng Rufei was supposed to be the universally-adored shou.
Lin Shijin was stunned senseless. He was just about to say something when a hand suddenly reached around from behind.
Cool fingertips pressed to his lips. Hot breath brushed his ear. Sheng Rufei’s deep, chilly voice murmured right beside him:
“Not another word.”
Lin Shijin froze. He was lying on his side… and so was Sheng Rufei. If he shifted back even a little…
He might actually brush against Sheng Rufei.
So he kept quiet, obediently following Sheng Rufei’s lead. After a while, sensing no further movement, he actually admired his shixiong’s self-control.
With that thought, he stared at the wall for a bit. Sleep soon tugged at him, his breathing growing faintly uneasy. He loosely held onto Sheng Rufei’s fingers and drifted off.
Half-asleep, Lin Shijin felt a sharp little pain in his ear. He assumed someone was tugging it again. He reached up but found nothing there.
He had no idea that Sheng Rufei, behind him, had leaned in. He held himself back… and gently bit the tip of his ear, like a beast trying to leave its mark on its possession.
His small, pale earlobe now bore a faint crescent of teeth. Feeling a vague discomfort, Lin Shijin touched his ear, then curled up with his blanket and fell asleep again.
Lin Fuheng, who had witnessed the entire scene, went dark-faced: “…” His fists clenched tight.
Lin Shijin drifted into another dream. This time, a face identical to his own appeared. But it was taller, fiercer, and far more formidable.
He hadn’t even known he was capable of such an expression. The other him was cold-faced, radiating displeasure, and twisted his ear as he spoke.
“What did I tell you last time? Stop tangling yourself up with that rabble,” Lin Fuheng said, voice low and sinister. “Useless thing… you don’t even realise you’re being taken advantage of.”
If he still had even a sliver of cultivation left, he would’ve flung Sheng Rufei out on the spot instead of watching that brat take liberties with this little fool.
*
Author’s Note:
Lin Fuheng: Whoever dares lay hands on my reincarnation can try beating me first.
