Lin Shijin felt a sharp pain at his wrist and let out a soft groan. The sound seemed to bring the youth restraining him back to his senses. His grip loosened slightly, and his fingertips began to rub Lin Shijin’s wrist in a gentle, almost soothing motion.
The room was very quiet, filled only with the mingled sound of their breathing. Heat rose to Lin Shijin’s cheeks. He sensed something and did not dare move rashly, afraid Sheng Rufei might lose control, in which case he would have no choice but to yield.
After all, in front of Sheng Rufei, he had scarcely any restraint to speak of.
Sheng Rufei’s lowered breath brushed against his neck, and the skin there seemed to grow warm. His wrist was still lightly held. Only after a long while did Sheng Rufei release him.
Clutching his blanket, Lin Shijin felt faintly awkward. His voice came out slightly hoarse. “Shixiong… I should go back.”
He made to rise, but Sheng Rufei pressed him down with his fingertips. His voice was low and rough. “No need.”
Sheng Rufei’s thin lids drooped, a darker shade gathering in his pale eyes. “I will not touch you again.”
Lin Shijin gave a quiet “oh” and did not press the matter. Hugging his blanket, he turned over. A faint movement came from behind him, and he could feel a gaze resting on him.
Before long, the room fell silent. When he turned back, Sheng Rufei was no longer there.
Lin Shijin buried his face in the blanket. The tips of his ears were flushed red, still carrying Sheng Rufei’s scent. He felt strangely unsettled, his heartbeat growing faster and faster.
He tossed and turned for some time, until he noticed Sheng Rufei’s outer robe lying by the bedside. After confirming that Sheng Rufei truly was not in the room, he quietly gathered the robe into his arms.
In another room of the inn, the window stood open, moonlight spilling in like water. Su Lian stood by the window and caught sight of a figure upon the eaves not far away.
The youth’s back was slender, a sword at his side, his silhouette almost swallowed by the night.
Su Lian’s gaze rested on Sheng Rufei’s figure. He turned to the other youth in the room and said, “He has already discovered you. Do not make any moves for the time being.”
“He has discovered me and yet does not expose it. Perhaps he is testing me?” Xue Ning, now wearing his original face, sat at the table. A crane-patterned mask lay upon it. He raised a brow slightly. “Where did I give myself away?”
Su Lian could not be bothered to answer. There were flaws everywhere.
“Do you understand now? Sheng Rufei and his shidi have already become entangled. Do not interfere between them again. If you ruin the plan, our lord will not spare us.”
“Of course.” Xue Ning’s eyes were dark as ink. He suddenly smiled, his tone careless. “Sheng Rufei… whether he lives that long is another matter. If something should happen to him along the way, may I take the person with me?”
It was obvious who he meant.
“As you wish,” Su Lian replied, adding, “if you have the ability.”
Xue Ning tapped the table idly. “It will not be our turn to act. He has already taken a dangerous step. With the sacred artefact still in his possession, countless people will come looking for trouble.”
“After all, there are few in this world who can break the illusion array of a sacred artefact.”
Su Lian fell silent for a long while, his gaze lingering on the distant figure, his expression unreadable. Perhaps it was also that person’s intention.
That person did not intend to leave Sheng Rufei any path to survival. Therefore, Sheng Rufei was bound to die.
“So it is,” Su Lian said softly. “Which means you should understand better than I do… Lin Seventeen’s identity may be far more complicated than we imagined. Our lord wishes to torment him, yet forbids others from touching him.”
“As for the reason, you should know it well.”
His gaze shifted to the youth at the table. Seeing his aura darken slightly, Su Lian paused.
“Getting close to him will not end well. Even Feng Rugao was implicated. Do you wish to become the next Sheng Rufei?”
The candlelight flickered. The youth at the table remained silent for a long time, until the flame was extinguished, and everything sank into darkness.
A fleeting affection born of youthful impulse was utterly insignificant in the face of such disparity in power. There could be no future between them.
*
Clutching Sheng Rufei’s outer robe, Lin Shijin gradually drifted off to sleep. When he awoke the next day, the robe was still warm in his arms. After a moment’s daze, he turned, sensing something.
The youth by the window stood tall and slender, silver hair falling loose about him. Without his outer robe, clad only in inner garments, his broad shoulders and narrow waist were clearly outlined. Sensing his gaze, Sheng Rufei turned his head slightly.
Light and shadow fell across his profile. At his fingertips flickered threads of light, which Lin Shijin recognised as a form of tracking spell.
Realising what he was holding, Lin Shijin felt a little embarrassed. He set the robe aside and slipped from the bed to retrieve his own. “Shixiong, what time is it?”
“It is still early.” The strands of light at Sheng Rufei’s fingertips dissipated. “We shall remain in the city one more day. Tomorrow, we leave for the Buye City.”
“Alright.”
Lin Shijin cast a cleansing spell and sat at the table, fastening the last of his robe ties. The Yinbing Sword still lay there. Before he could move, the silver-white blade edged closer, its tip nudging his fingertip.
It felt faintly warm, even pressing against him in a small, coaxing motion.
Lin Shijin could not help but smile. The moment he touched it, the sword slipped straight into his arms and refused to leave. “Shixiong, Yinbing seems rather clingy.”
He tugged at it twice, but the sword would not budge. It was not cold at all, but gently warm, so he let it be.
“Come back.” Sheng Rufei’s gaze fell upon the sword in his arms, his tone cool.
Yinbing flushed faintly red and ignored him, nestling contentedly where it was, as though very pleased with its new place.
“It is fine,” Lin Shijin said, thinking Sheng Rufei’s coldness might frighten it. The sword seemed almost shy. He stroked it lightly, and Yinbing nudged his fingertip again, slow and almost ingratiating.
“It is warm. Quite comfortable, actually.”
Holding the sword, Lin Shijin noticed Sheng Rufei was still watching. Yinbing, however, showed no sign of retreating.
“Shixiong, shall we head out?”
He tugged at Sheng Rufei’s sleeve. Only then did Sheng Rufei withdraw his gaze, and the two of them went downstairs together.
The inn’s ground floor was lively, filled with people taking their morning meal. Lin Shijin had not paid much attention the day before, but now, looking around, it was clear they were close to the Buye City, the city beneath Mount Wuxiang. There were noticeably many disciples of the immortal sects.
Those in robes patterned with wind-singing bamboo and orchids belonged to Luoxiao; the Falling Snow Returning Rainbow marked Cangyin; and those with double wild goose clasps on their swords were disciples of Guiyan.
These were the three great sects alongside Fuguang. Beyond them were numerous smaller sects. Various robes filled the room, along with those plainly disguised as ordinary folk. Lin Shijin could distinguish them almost at a glance.
Perhaps because he had seen so many along the journey, and he and Sheng Rufei had adopted different disguises in each city, it all came easily to him now.
Noticing his attention linger, Sheng Rufei paused. “Do you want breakfast?”
Lin Shijin shook his head. He was not particularly hungry. Tugging lightly at Sheng Rufei’s sleeve, he said, “Shixiong, let us exchange the demon bones first.”
He was still thinking of what Fuheng had said the day before. He trusted Sheng Rufei. There was no way Sheng Rufei was poor. Once they exchanged the demon bones, they would have money.
Sheng Rufei followed his lead, and the two went to the underground market.
The moment Lin Shijin stepped inside, he felt a wave of discomfort. Though called a market, it resembled nothing so much as a grimy bazaar. It was filthy and chaotic. Demon bones hung from iron hooks, alongside severed parts of demonic beasts.
“Come and see, top-grade fifth-tier beast flesh…”
The stench of blood hit him at once. His stomach churned. Sheng Rufei paused and brushed a fingertip against his nose. Instantly, the smell vanished.
Cold light gleamed off the iron hooks, some driven clean through the throats of beasts, blood trickling down. Lin Shijin’s eyelids twitched. Some of the skeletal forms looked disturbingly human. He recalled the cursed townsfolk of Yixiu City, twisted into monstrous forms. A deep sense of revulsion rose within him.
His hand was suddenly taken.
Sheng Rufei seemed to understand his thoughts. “The demon race and demonic beasts are not the same. Beasts do not possess thought.”
Lin Shijin gave a quiet hum, his voice slightly muffled. “I was just reminded of Yixiu City… those people who turned into monsters. They looked very similar.”
“They are not the same,” Sheng Rufei said. He did not tell him that among them were, in truth, the remains of higher-ranking demonkind. Within their kind, hierarchy was strict, and the higher ranks were exceedingly valuable.
Lin Shijin’s head was gently ruffled. Led along, he felt the warmth of Sheng Rufei’s hand as the latter patiently explained.
“‘Demonic’ is merely a broad term. In truth, it encompasses the demon race, demonic beasts, and true malevolent entities. Humans and demonkind are at odds, hence the shared label. Only the demon race possesses intelligence, much like humans and cultivators. Demonic beasts range from the first to the ninth tier and lack thought. As for true malevolent entities… they are what you saw in Yixiu City, those masses of black mist. They possess only resentment and hatred, nothing more.”
Drawn in by his explanation, Lin Shijin found himself ignoring the noise around them. By the time Sheng Rufei finished speaking, they had already reached their destination.
It was a shadowed corner of the street, a hidden shop. The light was dim. Once inside, all outside noise vanished.
The proprietor was a gaunt old man, skin stretched thin over bone, as though it might peel away at any moment.
Seeing them enter, he spoke in a low, rasping voice, like dry branches scraping against stone. “I only accept high-grade demon bones.”
Sheng Rufei said nothing. With a slight movement of his fingers, a complete demon skeleton appeared before him, cleanly stripped, flawless in form and of exceptional quality, like translucent jade.
The old man’s expression shifted. He reached out to touch it. “Sixth rank? Name your price.”
“I have three more identical sixth-rank ones, and one seventh-rank missing a finger bone.”
Lin Shijin stared, astonished. Every demon bone he had seen before was incomplete. Even those displayed here were inferior to this one.
He recalled Jing Qiuhong saying how difficult it was to separate bone from flesh, making complete specimens exceedingly rare. Let alone ones of such high rank.
He was just about to proudly boast to Fuheng when a cool voice sounded beside him.
“He slew the seventh-rank beast beside the Snow Demon. The bones were taken from it. If you remain with him, and one day cease to favour him—”
“He may well strip your bones too, just like those on display.”
Lin Fuheng continued, deliberately chilling, “Did you not notice the other day? He steals kisses from you while you sleep. There is a tracking talisman on your jade lock. Wherever you go, whatever you say, he knows. And more than that, he has tampered with your soul-bond. Have you not realised you are growing ever more attached, unable to leave him?”
Lin Shijin: “…”
Up ahead, Sheng Rufei was still discussing price when he seemed to sense something and turned.
Behind him, the youth stood frozen, then inexplicably flushed, looking almost shy.
Lin Fuheng had been waiting for an outburst, but had clearly overestimated his ability to grasp the crucial point.
“You said Shixiong steals kisses from me often… does that mean he did it before as well?” Lin Shijin asked, a little embarrassed, his voice shy. “I thought it only started yesterday.”
So Shixiong had always liked him this much. How nice.
Lin Fuheng: “?”
