They had originally expected the journey to the Buye City to take seven days, but after taking a longer route, it stretched to ten. Demonic cultivators pursued them relentlessly the entire way. Only on the tenth day did they finally reach the city and shake them off for good.
“Shixiong, have Su Lian-shixiong and the others already arrived?”
From afar, Lin Shijin caught sight of the immense city gates. They had entered the domain of the Buye City. A natural barrier lay here, making it difficult for demonic cultivators to slip in, and at last they could lower their guard a little.
Buye City stood at the foot of Mount Wuxiang, the final of the fifty principal cities within the Three Thousand Worlds. Built against the mountain, it appeared from a distance as though the mist-shrouded Mount Wuxiang had been cleaved apart from the city by a celestial axe.
It lay within Mount Wuxiang, and yet outside it.
Sunlight pierced through layers of cloud. After days of travelling without rest, they were nearly exhausted. Lin Shijin himself was worn out, let alone Sheng Rufei, who had scarcely rested at all along the way.
Lin Shijin stepped down from the carriage. They were still outside the city, where stretches of peach groves met marshland. They had stopped by a river and would rest briefly before entering.
He asked his question again, but Sheng Rufei did not reply. Lin Shijin turned his head and saw him staring down at his fingertips, eyes unfocused, as though lost in thought.
“Shixiong?”
Only then did Sheng Rufei come back to himself. He slowly withdrew his hand and gave a quiet hum. “They arrived three days ago.”
“So early.”
Over the past few days, Lin Shijin had been constantly worried about him. The first thing he did each morning was check Sheng Rufei’s chest. Now he glanced again. The wound on Sheng Rufei’s face had already healed, leaving only a faint scar.
It would likely fade within a few days. Rather than marring him, the mark lent his features a colder sharpness.
Lin Shijin dipped his fingers into the river and splashed water over his face. Afterwards, he filled a flask and went to sit beside Sheng Rufei.
“Shixiong, we’re safe for now within Mount Wuxiang. But what happens once we leave? Will the demonic cultivators continue hunting us?”
“Perhaps.” Sheng Rufei lifted his gaze, lashes long, voice cool. “Afraid?”
Lin Shijin, oblivious to the undercurrent in his tone, simply reached for his hand. Now that they had reached the city, he seemed much more at ease. “Not afraid. When I grow stronger, I’ll protect you, Shixiong.”
He paused, thinking seriously. “If one day I become as strong as Fuheng… then if those demonic cultivators dare chase us again, I’ll catch them all and hand them over to you.”
After everything they had been through, he harboured a deep dislike for them. More than anything, they had injured Sheng Rufei and used that scarecrow to threaten him. The thought still made him angry.
If he ever became powerful, the first thing he would do would be to stand up for Sheng Rufei.
Somewhere, Lin Fuheng was silently implicated.
Lin Shijin’s ear was promptly tugged.
He could almost guess what that meant. No ambition, no prospects.
Truth be told, he had been wavering these past few days. The Wusheng Sword Intent that Fuheng had mentioned had not been successfully cultivated in a thousand years. He feared he might lose everything, failing to achieve it and instead falling into qi deviation.
Still troubled, he absentmindedly squeezed Sheng Rufei’s fingertips. When their eyes met, Sheng Rufei’s gaze was like dense ink, all emotion concealed beyond reading.
Lin Shijin decided not to dwell on it. Sheng Rufei was probably just exhausted, having remained constantly on guard, especially while protecting him.
“Don’t think too much, Shixiong. Things will sort themselves out,” he said lightly. Leaning in, he rubbed against Sheng Rufei’s chest, listening to the steady, warm heartbeat beneath his robes. He did this countless times a day.
Fuheng had mocked him for it just yesterday, saying anyone who saw it would think Sheng Rufei was pregnant.
“We’re fine, aren’t we? Maybe the enemy’s just trying to scare us. No real ability, just waiting for us to lose our nerve first.”
He muttered on, “They can’t enter Mount Wuxiang. And in the city, there’s Chunhe and the others, and that Shen Buyu-shixiong that Shizun mentioned. I still haven’t met him.”
“You always pull that long face. You’re more like an old man than Shizun,” Lin Shijin said, studying him. He leaned in and kissed Sheng Rufei’s cheek, only to recoil and spit. “You didn’t even use a cleansing spell?”
The last stretch of road had been full of dust, and Sheng Rufei had been caught in it the whole way. For someone so particular, it was unusual.
“Did you do it on purpose, waiting for me to kiss you?” Lin Shijin grumbled, dragging him to the river.
This time, Sheng Rufei followed without resistance.
Lin Shijin pulled out a small handkerchief, the one he had given him earlier, dampened it in the river, wrung it out, and began wiping Sheng Rufei’s face.
He was clearly unpractised, his movements clumsy and a little too forceful.
Sheng Rufei felt the skin sting.
“……”
The cloth ended up plastered over his face as Lin Shijin wiped him down haphazardly. Yet when he looked at the youth’s soft, earnest expression, he said nothing.
“All right. Next time, remember to use a cleansing spell,” Lin Shijin said, thinking privately that otherwise there would be no more kisses. He could still taste grit.
He wrung out the handkerchief again and tucked it back into Sheng Rufei’s robes. A small sheep was embroidered on it, something he had bought himself, albeit with Sheng Rufei’s money.
“Don’t lose it,” he added.
Sheng Rufei gave a quiet acknowledgement and turned to tend to the puppet.
Lin Shijin returned to the carriage and idly played with the wooden maze. It had grown more complex, filled with compartments carved into sheep motifs. Even the small beads had been replaced with tiny sheep.
A correct move turned a square into spirit grass the sheep favoured. A wrong one turned it into black mist that swallowed the sheep whole. After a while, he got stuck.
Clutching the board, he went back to Sheng Rufei. “Shixiong, I can’t solve it.”
Sheng Rufei tapped it lightly and shifted a single square. The mechanism turned, and the black mist dissipated.
Lin Shijin stayed, watching him repair the puppet. His movements were precise, restoring every mark. The joints creaked softly as they moved.
“Does it have awareness?” he asked.
“No,” Sheng Rufei said, drawing out a fine silver thread. “I control it. But it can be given awareness.”
Lin Shijin blinked. Sheng Rufei added, “I can split my consciousness.”
“Ah.”
Looking closer, the puppet bore a faint resemblance to him. A fine thread ran along its neck.
“Where did you learn this?” Lin Shijin asked. It reminded him of Jun Yewu’s soul-capturing technique.
“I picked it up while breaking that technique,” Sheng Rufei replied. “This kind of puppet can counter it.”
Lin Shijin fell silent. In just a few months, Sheng Rufei had not only broken it, but adapted it.
He reached out and touched the puppet. It looked alive, though its skin was cool.
Before long, the carriage set off again, heading towards the city gates.
Seated beside Sheng Rufei, Lin Shijin asked, “Have you met any of Shizun’s other disciples?”
“A few. Not closely.”
“Many are no longer in Fuguang. They only keep contact with Shizun.”
Lin Shijin nodded. That sounded like him.
“Shizun said there’s a shixiong here. Shall we meet him?”
After a brief pause, Sheng Rufei said, “Shen Buyu should come to receive us.”
“Oh?” Lin Shijin perked up. “What kind of person is he? Is he also here to go to Mount Wuxiang?”
Sheng Rufei gave a slight shake of his head. “No.”
Only after a pause did he add, “He was driven out by the sect leader. He owed too many spirit stones within the sect and couldn’t repay them, so the sect leader told him to settle his debts before returning.”
Lin Shijin was faintly surprised. “How many spirit stones does he owe?”
“A great many,” Sheng Rufei said. “It’s been five years, and he still hasn’t gathered enough.”
Lin Shijin: “…”
Hearing that, he already had a vague sense that this Shen-shixiong might be somewhat unreliable.
The carriage passed through the peach grove, and the city loomed close. Before the gates stood a cold, imposing statue, gazing down with disdain. Flames flickered in a bronze basin, and banners bearing swords arcing toward the moon unfurled in the wind. Numerous Scourge-Slayers stood guard.
As the wind swept past, the sword patterns on the statue flickered in and out of sight. Lin Shijin and the others alighted from the carriage, when a familiar voice sounded from the distance.
“Sheng-shidi and Lin-shidi are arriving today. I was just in contact with them.”
It was Su Lian.
Following the voice, Lin Shijin saw Su Lian, Chunhe, Mu Wanqing, and Xue Danggui, all clad in gold-patterned robes of Fuguang. And beside Su Lian stood another man.
He had a mild build and a gentle bearing. His Daoist robe was slightly worn, his features refined in a way that only grew more pleasing the longer one looked. It was the sort of face that invited easy trust.
This must be the Shen Buyu Sheng Rufei had mentioned.
Lin Shijin followed behind Sheng Rufei, still clutching a corner of his sleeve. With so many people present, he quietly let go.
No sooner had Su Lian finished speaking than Shen Buyu’s gaze fell first on Sheng Rufei, then shifted to Lin Shijin, lingering for a moment.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, as though he had seen a ghost.
It wasn’t just Lin Shijin who noticed. Su Lian and the others did as well.
Su Lian asked, “Buyu-shixiong, what is it? Have you met Lin-shidi before?”
The surprise lasted only an instant before Shen Buyu composed himself and shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Sheng-shidi, it’s been a long time. I almost didn’t recognise you.” Shen Buyu raised a brow slightly, his gaze sweeping discreetly over the youth at Sheng Rufei’s side.
When he wasn’t smiling, the youth’s features were strikingly clear and refined. His eyes were slightly different, the corners faintly lifted. That face…
It was identical to the portrait he had seen in Changming Hall.
*
Author’s Note:
Sheng Rufei: I hear people say I don’t show many expressions, that I’m just a block of wood. In truth I’m simply expressionless. If I smiled, wouldn’t that ruin my character?
Lin Mianmian nods in agreement: Exactly. A block of wood is a block of wood.
