Lin Shijin was utterly drowsy. The commotion by his ear roused him; he slowly opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a black robe. His forehead knocked against a hard chest, and all around him swirled dense black mist.
His head throbbed. Before he could react, the other person cupped his head in a palm that was just as hard, pressing so firmly it hurt.
Through the fog, Lin Shijin made out a somewhat familiar face and met a pair of deep, glazed eyes. He himself had fitted those very eyes.
Wasn’t this the puppet Sheng Rufei had made before? Finished so quickly?
Joy welled up in him at once. He threw his arms around the puppet. “Shixiong?”
The puppet held him and gave a low response. It was indeed Sheng Rufei’s voice. Certain now, Lin Shijin grew even more excited.
“When did you get here, Shixiong? Why are you using a puppet? Are you hurt?”
The questions tumbled out one after another. He had more to ask, but something flickered at the edge of his vision. A streak of sword light skimmed past him, a gust of wind rushing head-on, missing his cheek by a hair’s breadth.
With a loud crack, a tree trunk was cleaved in two. The demonic entities in the air, struck by the sword light, let out piercing, heart-rending screams.
The sound scraped against the ears, shrill and jarring. Lin Shijin started violently and instinctively tightened his grip around Sheng Rufei’s neck, burying himself in his arms. Through the dense mist, he saw Cui Haoxue, sword in hand.
Sheng Rufei moved swiftly through the fog, narrowly evading Cui Haoxue’s attacks. One streak of sword light followed another as Cui Haoxue pursued them, seemingly unimpeded by the mist.
Not entirely unimpeded, of course. It was simply a matter of who could endure longer.
The fog coiled thickly around them, but Sheng Rufei had set up a barrier at his side. The low murmurs of resentful spirits filled Lin Shijin’s ears. Sheng Rufei had to maintain the barrier, guard against the demonic creatures, and avoid Cui Haoxue’s sword light all at once.
His earlier drowsiness vanished completely. Noticing the faint threads on the puppet, he channelled spiritual energy into them with his fingertips.
Whatever the reason for Cui Haoxue’s pursuit, as long as it placed him opposite Sheng Rufei, Lin Shijin would not hesitate to stand on Sheng Rufei’s side.
Spiritual energy flowed into the silver threads. In the distance, sword light split the thick mist, accompanied by a tearing sound in the air.
As it came straight for them, Lin Shijin’s hand trembled. The next instant, Sheng Rufei’s sword met it head-on. Several silver threads snapped, dissolving mid-air into silver butterflies.
He recognised them as transformed dead soul worms. His eyelids twitched. He hardly dared imagine what materials Sheng Rufei had used to make this puppet.
Sheng Rufei moved even faster after that, weaving through the shadowy forest and gradually leaving Cui Haoxue behind.
Lin Shijin’s hair was blown into disarray. He remained tense, clinging tightly to Sheng Rufei and glancing back from time to time, afraid Cui Haoxue might suddenly reappear behind them.
After some time, Sheng Rufei’s barrier began to falter. The entire forest seemed to fall silent as Lin Shijin was carried into a cave.
Once inside, Sheng Rufei set him down and established a barrier.
“Shixiong?”
Lin Shijin lit a long-burning candle. As the flame rose, he finally saw Sheng Rufei clearly.
The puppet’s features were crudely carved, yet its bearing and figure matched Sheng Rufei’s exactly, making it easy to recognise. Its looks could not compare to Sheng Rufei’s striking appearance. Ink-black hair fell like a cascade, and his gaze remained as deep as a still pool. Several silver threads had snapped, and Sheng Rufei was pulling them free.
Before long, he finished and came over, bending slightly as he took hold of Lin Shijin’s wrist.
The wrist was still wrapped in bandages. Sheng Rufei brushed his fingertips lightly, lowering his eyes as he asked, “How did this happen?”
“I wasn’t careful when I was teleported into Wuxiang Mountain and fell.”
For now, there seemed to be no danger. With Sheng Rufei here, Lin Shijin felt much more at ease. His fingers twitched slightly, more concerned about Sheng Rufei’s condition.
“Shixiong, you still haven’t answered what I asked earlier.”
“I’m not hurt. What about you? Where are you now?”
“Not far. I can take you there in a couple of days.” Using the puppet body, Sheng Rufei’s touch was cold and rigid. His fingertips brushing the skin felt rough and faintly painful. “I was injured, so it was inconvenient to come in person. I used a puppet.”
“Injured? Where? Is it serious? Are you alone now?”
The questions came rapidly. Sheng Rufei lifted his gaze. Meeting those calm eyes, Lin Shijin settled a little, though a trace of grievance surfaced.
“I was worried about you.” He leaned forward and hugged him again. Now Sheng Rufei truly felt like carved wood, stiff in his arms.
He lingered close, fingers brushing through Sheng Rufei’s black hair, imagining how it would look in reality. It must be beautiful.
“Don’t find me annoying,” he muttered.
“I don’t,” Sheng Rufei said after a brief pause, his voice slightly hoarse. “Let me see your wrist first.”
“Mm.” Lin Shijin loosened his hold and extended his wrist. Sheng Rufei unwrapped the bandages.
The skin around the joint was bruised, with several finger marks clearly visible, left by Xue Ning’s grip.
Sheng Rufei held his wrist gently, yet it still hurt. His fingers traced the injury as he said quietly, “It will hurt a little.”
“Then be gentle,” Lin Shijin murmured.
In the next moment, Sheng Rufei set the bone. Pain flared sharply. Lin Shijin jolted and instinctively clutched at Sheng Rufei’s robe.
“Shixiong—” he cried, voice trembling. The pain slowly eased as Sheng Rufei massaged the joint and applied medicine.
Even without being told, Lin Shijin knew he was more delicate than most disciples. He bruised easily, and it had become a habit to leave such injuries for Sheng Rufei to treat.
“Next time you’re hurt, deal with it immediately,” Sheng Rufei said as he rewrapped the bandage. “If you leave it, it will only hurt more.”
Lin Shijin gave a small acknowledgement, rubbing his wrist. It no longer hurt. “I understand.”
He set the candle aside and watched Sheng Rufei take out several bone lamps. Their dim flames flickered faintly. He had no idea what bones they were made from and decided not to ask.
“You’ve been with those two all this time?” Sheng Rufei asked.
“We ran into them on the way and couldn’t shake them off. By the way,” Lin Shijin added, “why was Cui Haoxue chasing us alone? Xue Ning wasn’t there.”
“When I found you, he was carrying you out of the cave. I didn’t see Xue Ning.”
Sheng Rufei spoke while still holding his wrist. Lin Shijin felt slightly uncomfortable and tried to withdraw it, but when their eyes met, he stayed still.
Knowing Sheng Rufei could be easily angered, though he rarely showed it, Lin Shijin spoke honestly. “I fell asleep. I was meditating, but somehow I got drowsy.”
His voice softened. Thinking of Sheng Rufei’s earlier displeasure regarding Cui Haoxue, he tugged lightly at his sleeve.
“I only met them by chance, Shixiong.”
Before he could finish, Sheng Rufei lifted his sleeve slightly. “Apart from your wrist, where else?”
“Nowhere. My wrist was from earlier. I went too close to the poisonous mist, and Xue Ning pulled me back.”
He explained stiffly, feeling Sheng Rufei’s aura grow colder. Cold fingertips traced slowly upward along his arm.
The puppet’s body felt entirely unlike a human’s. Realising what Sheng Rufei intended, Lin Shijin leaned closer, a hint of pleading in his voice.
“I’m telling the truth.”
Though he protested, he did not stop him. After all, he had a history of causing trouble.
The rough fingertips pressed against his skin. He clung to Sheng Rufei, leaning into his chest with faint complaint. “You’re so cold, Shixiong.”
“Like ice. Can’t you warm up?”
At that, Sheng Rufei’s temperature rose, as if he could adjust it. Lin Shijin touched him again, his tone shifting.
“You still haven’t answered me. How serious is it? You didn’t tell me anything.”
“Not serious,” Sheng Rufei replied quietly, pulling his robe closed again. There were scrapes on his body, including his knees, and he smoothed out the bruising.
“And where exactly are you hurt? Is it dangerous for you to use a puppet?”
His pale skin, smooth as silk, slowly lost its bruising under Sheng Rufei’s touch.
“No,” Sheng Rufei said after a pause. “My back was grazed by a demonic cultivator’s sword energy.”
“How did a demonic cultivator get in?” Lin Shijin continued, questions tumbling out as he sat by the wall, hands tucked in his sleeves. Beside Sheng Rufei, he became lively again, wanting to know everything.
“Will we be separated again?”
“No.”
Relief spread through him. His fingers traced Sheng Rufei’s cheek, then his lashes, which felt uncannily real.
“Did you make this puppet just now?”
Sheng Rufei gave a soft sound of assent. “I was worried.”
Naturally, he meant Lin Shijin.
Warmth blossomed in Lin Shijin’s chest. He touched Sheng Rufei’s face, then brushed his lips lightly against his.
It felt different.
As he drew back, Sheng Rufei’s firm hand came to the back of his neck, rubbing gently. Lin Shijin instinctively tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to go in his arms.
Like a startled quail, his lips parted slightly and met something warm.
His face flushed at once. His mind rang blank, leaving only one thought.
Sheng Rufei was exceptionally skilled at crafting puppets. The touch was merely a little rougher and harder than usual.
But why… why was there…?
