“The Wusheng Sword Intent?”
Lin Shijin nodded and set the Yinbing Sword back upon the table. It was something Fuheng had mentioned; he had never heard of it before, so he came to ask Sheng Rufei. Sheng Rufei knew far more, and might have an answer.
“It is an exceedingly difficult method of cultivation,” Sheng Rufei said. “Difficult though it is, once mastered it allows one to shatter the Nine Heavens Realm in a single step and reach the pinnacle of cultivation.”
“I do not know much about it either. I only know that it is extremely hard to cultivate. It is said that one must possess an exceptionally steadfast will. Otherwise, the slightest misstep will lead to deviation, or even self-destruction.”
“Why?”
Sheng Rufei’s gaze settled on him. After a brief pause, he said, “Their cultivation relies on external forces. They do not use their own bodies as vessels to draw in spiritual energy. These so-called external forces…”
“You may think of it as borrowing power from ghosts and gods.”
“That is how it is recorded in the texts. By borrowing such power, they can hear all manner of voices. Those voices do not belong to the Three Thousand Worlds, and with the slightest lapse they may be driven mad.”
“Those voices cling to them day and night, tormenting them without cease. Not only that, but because of the borrowed sword intent, their lifespan is also affected. At the very least, ten years are lost.”
“Ten years may not seem much to disciples of the immortal sects, yet this method is ultimately perilous. It is not that no one has tried it through the ages, but to this day, no one has succeeded.”
Having finished his explanation, Sheng Rufei’s gaze turned faintly colder. “Has someone urged you to practise this method?”
Lin Shijin was stunned. To break through the Ninth Heaven Realm in a single step… he did not know whether to say Fuheng had too much faith in him or had greatly overestimated him.
“No, I merely came across it in a text,” Lin Shijin said instinctively. He felt that Fuheng would not deceive him, and what he had said did indeed align with this.
But since no one had ever succeeded, and the chances were so slim, he hardly dared to try.
A trace of worry crept into Lin Shijin. He met Sheng Rufei’s gaze. Those eyes were dark and heavy, as though they had already seen through his perfunctory answer.
“I truly did read it in a text. I was only curious,” Lin Shijin added lightly. Knowing Sheng Rufei was concerned for him, he leaned closer, wrapping his arms around him, meeting his gaze and gently brushing him with the tip of his nose.
“Shixiong, believe me.”
Sheng Rufei remained unmoved. He lowered his eyes slightly to look at him, fingertips shifting faintly, his lips pressed into a straight line. “What I said last time was spoken in anger.”
“I resent my own helplessness. I am afraid someone will take you from me.” His voice was cool as he spoke in a low tone. “You need not do things you dislike for my sake.”
He did not say the rest. He would grow stronger, little by little, until he could protect the youth completely and allow him to do as he pleased.
Lin Shijin looked into his eyes, finding only focus within them. His face slowly warmed. Though Sheng Rufei had done nothing, he felt faintly light-headed.
“Shixiong… you…” Lin Shijin did not know what to say. It was the first time something stirred so deeply within him, as though gently prodded, sour and soft all at once.
“You really are a blockhead.”
Still holding onto him, Lin Shijin’s eyes were bright, his lips brushing against Sheng Rufei’s hair. “If I could do nothing, if I were to rot in the mud, would you still like me?”
The words slipped out without thought. It seemed he had asked something similar before. His chest felt hollow, yet full of expectation for the answer.
A faint sensation brushed his hair. Lin Shijin realised it had been kissed. Sheng Rufei’s fingertips touched his cheek, and after a long pause he said, “If you became like that, you would belong to me alone.”
He did not voice what lay deeper in his heart. That he would like the youth no matter what. Such promises felt meaningless; he preferred to show it through his actions.
In Sheng Rufei’s eyes, Lin Shijin glimpsed a trace of possessiveness. He could almost guess his thoughts. Perhaps Sheng Rufei would rather he become worthless, abandoned, so that he could hold him in his palm, leaving him with no one else to rely on.
“Why are you still so hung up on it? You’re endlessly jealous. You were never like this before.” Lin Shijin reached up, brushing Sheng Rufei’s ear and giving it a light tug.
The entire ear flushed red, though his expression remained unchanged. He caught Lin Shijin’s fingers, pressing them down to stop him moving. “Do not touch at random.”
He slowly released him. “I will sleep with you tonight.”
“Tomorrow we shall go into the city to exchange for demon bones.”
Since Lin Shijin insisted on staying, Sheng Rufei had no reason to refuse. He had thought Sheng Rufei would meditate, yet instead he lay down beside him.
And began to draw a map.
Lin Shijin arranged his small pillow, finding it rather curious. “Shixiong, are you not meditating today?”
He was ignored. Lin Shijin poked his arm lightly, only for Sheng Rufei to catch his fingertips. “No meditation.”
He did not pull away. After watching him for a moment, he suddenly understood. That false Sheng Rufei in the illusion had shared a bed with him. This blockhead was clearly still bothered.
A faint smile tugged at Lin Shijin’s lips. Leaning closer, he saw that Sheng Rufei was studying a map of the city. “Shixiong, Mu Wanqing said that disciple from Medicine Peak seemed suspicious. What do you think?”
“I think nothing of it,” Sheng Rufei replied, holding his fingertips. “A fox’s tail cannot remain hidden for long.”
Lin Shijin found it rather amusing, especially in that cool, indifferent tone. “You seem to know everything. When did you notice?”
The faint, sweet scent of the youth lingered before Sheng Rufei. Lin Shijin was clingy, never still, his fingers wandering from hair to lips, then back again. As though he wished to melt into him entirely.
“When he looked at you,” Sheng Rufei answered simply, eyes lowered as he marked several points upon the map.
“I didn’t even notice when he looked at me, but he did make me uncomfortable.”
Lin Shijin muttered, only to realise Sheng Rufei was not listening. He glanced at the map. “Shixiong, what are these circles?”
“Places we are to visit tomorrow.”
Lin Shijin gave a soft “oh” and lingered beside him, his fingers brushing Sheng Rufei’s throat, where the slight prominence shifted as he spoke.
“Shixiong…” Lin Shijin blinked. He had a feeling his comfortable days were numbered. If he began cultivating under Fuheng, he might not even have time to sleep.
“Kiss me once. I want to sleep.”
As he spoke, he fumbled with the ties of his robe, unable to undo them. Sheng Rufei reached over and untied them for him. Lowering his gaze, he leaned in and brushed the corner of Lin Shijin’s lips. Cool, and fleeting.
Holding to the idea that a kiss should be returned, Lin Shijin leaned in and kissed him back. The tips of Sheng Rufei’s ears reddened at once, which Lin Shijin found rather endearing, and he could not resist stealing two more kisses.
He planted one against his cheek. Sheng Rufei frowned, touching his face, then grasped Lin Shijin’s chin. His gaze darkened as he said quietly, “Do not provoke.”
“Why are you so serious? It is only the two of us, there is no one else.” Lin Shijin paused, remembering Fuheng, then muttered, “And I was not provoking you.”
It was always Sheng Rufei who reacted so strongly, as though one more kiss would lead to something else entirely. Though reluctant, Lin Shijin obediently let him go and retreated with his blanket to sleep.
He did not know how late Sheng Rufei would stay awake. The candle still burned. The room was quiet. Eyes closed, he drifted through thoughts of his picture books.
Time passed unnoticed. Perhaps he was still too pleased, for sleep would not come. The jade lock at his chest brought him a sense of calm.
The candle went out. He heard movement beside him. Nearly asleep, he sensed a gaze resting upon him.
In the darkness, his lashes trembled faintly. Just as he was about to open his eyes, a touch fell upon his eyelids.
Sheng Rufei’s fingertips brushed his eyelids, then slid down the bridge of his nose, tracing to the corner of his lips.
A coolness followed, carrying the faint scent of fallen plum blossoms. A kiss landed softly. Lin Shijin remained perfectly still.
The kisses came again, light and measured, at the corner of his lips, his cheek, the tip of his nose, his brow, his ear.
Restrained, yet threaded with unmistakable possessiveness.
A slight sting came at his ear, breath warm beside it. His face flushed. After a long while, Sheng Rufei finally drew him into an embrace.
His grip tightened at Lin Shijin’s waist until it nearly hurt. Lin Shijin endured it as long as he could before reaching his limit.
Just as he was about to react, the grip loosened slightly, and another kiss followed.
Only then did Lin Shijin realise the truth. This so-called blockhead was putting on an act. Outwardly cold and restrained, inwardly he was anything but.
He wondered what expression Sheng Rufei would wear if he opened his eyes now. Thinking so, as his lips were parted, heat rose to his ears, and he could not help but bite him.
The movement before him stilled for a moment. Then the breath changed. Sheng Rufei deepened the kiss, prising his lips apart, fingers catching his wrist and pressing it aside, preventing him from struggling.
“Sheng…”
The name never fully left his lips, swallowed into broken sounds, leaving him unable to resist. His strength seemed to melt away, as though he were nothing more than soaked paper.
“Shixiong…” A sharp sensation came at his neck. His face burned, as though fire might spark at any moment. His fingers twitched faintly as he tried to evade, his slender throat arching taut.
His wrist was pinned above his head, wholly restrained, like a lamb offering the faintest struggle. Sheng Rufei spoke little, yet in touch alone he was impossible to withstand.
“Let go of me first,” Lin Shijin murmured, breath uneven. He drew his legs in, trying to avoid him, lashes damp, voice soft as he coaxed, “Shixiong—”
The moment the words left him, pain tightened at his wrist.
Sheng Rufei’s grip hardened, as though he meant to crush him entirely.
