The courtyard Lin Shijin had chosen lay hidden within a sea of flowers and was not easily discovered. He set a barrier outside, tidied the place briefly, then went to examine Sheng Rufei’s wounds by the bedside.
When he had checked them the night before, they had been healing well. Now they had split open again, blood soaking through Sheng Rufei’s robes. He carefully helped him turn over.
“Tainted with demonic qi… were these inflicted by demonic cultivators?” Lin Shijin did not need an answer. He removed Sheng Rufei’s clothing, revealing numerous wounds, some of which bore no trace of demonic qi.
That meant it was not only demonic cultivators.
The fabric had stuck fast to the wounds. He used a spell to separate them. It was not only fresh injuries. His gaze paused slightly.
Sheng Rufei had never undressed before him. Aside from the new wounds, his waist, abdomen and back, even the firm muscles across his midsection, were covered in old scars of varying sizes.
There was one across his shoulder, and another along his waist. Both were deep, so deep they seemed as though they might have pierced straight through him.
Lin Shijin reached out and touched them. Sheng Rufei’s skin was burning hot. At his touch, Sheng Rufei’s lowered lashes trembled faintly.
He did not know how these wounds had been inflicted, but several of them looked inexplicably familiar.
For a moment, Lin Shijin was distracted. His fingertip lingered, brushing against the thick, ink-dark blood seeping from the reopened wound, before he came back to himself.
It felt as though something had pricked his heart. He found some powder to dispel demonic poison and sprinkled it over the wounds, then carefully re-bandaged them.
The black blood gradually returned to its normal colour. He wrapped each wound anew, tying several rather unsightly bows, then helped Sheng Rufei dress.
There was an unnatural flush on Sheng Rufei’s face. When Lin Shijin reached out and touched him again, the heat was startling.
“Fuheng, when will my shixiong’s fever subside?”
Lin Shijin knew nothing of medicine, and there was no one else nearby to ask, so he could only turn to Fuheng.
“That depends on the individual. If his will is not strong enough, it may take ten days or half a month. If his will surpasses that of ordinary people, he may recover as soon as tomorrow.”
“Why?”
Lin Shijin touched Sheng Rufei’s forehead again, took out a small handkerchief, dampened it with a spell until it turned cool, then laid it across his brow.
“My shixiong’s will is very strong.”
“When demonic poison invades the body,” Fuheng said, “it does not only affect the flesh, it also disturbs the mind.”
“Stay with him and see how many days it takes for him to wake.”
Lin Shijin touched Sheng Rufei’s forehead again. The handkerchief soon grew warm, so he cooled it once more with a spell.
Unable to sit still, he reached towards Sheng Rufei’s chest and, as expected, found the handkerchief he had given him tucked inside.
“Are there still many people watching him?”
Sheng Rufei’s face was pale, his brows faintly drawn together. Lin Shijin pressed his fingertips there, and the tension gradually eased.
“Yes,” Fuheng replied frankly. “If he is captured, he may die.”
“With a sacred artefact involved, and demonic cultivators stirring trouble behind the scenes, if I am not mistaken, many now want his life.”
Lin Shijin did not ask the foolish question of why they had to kill him. Both the righteous sects and the demonic cultivators possessed methods to kill and seize memories afterwards. It was efficient and safe, ensuring that the information they sought would not fall into anyone else’s hands.
“You are a burden to your shixiong now,” Fuheng said. “I have not yet asked you. Have you made your decision?”
He was referring to the Wusheng Sword Intent.
Lin Shijin pressed his lips together and looked at Sheng Rufei’s profile. He had never made such a choice before. He was only seventeen or eighteen.
He had neither the experience nor the perspective to know what he ought to choose.
“What if I fail?”
“Do you remember the fate Bu Wen calculated for you?” Fuheng did not answer him directly. “You are bound by karmic ties from a past life. If they are not resolved, not only will the two of you be separated, your shixiong will also lose his life.”
“As for you, you will become a sacrifice to that past karma. Whether you live or die will depend entirely on others.”
“If I learn it, will he be safe?”
Lin Shijin recalled what he had seen: the crane-feather patterns, the false Sheng Rufei within the illusion array, the resentful spirit flower that had bloomed for him, and the straw figure in the carriage.
Everything seemed to carry a faint premonition. He was already deep within the vortex, and Sheng Rufei had been dragged in with him. There was no way out.
And yet, even now, he did not know the root of it all.
“I may not be able to save him, but I can protect him for a time. At least he will not have to continue being injured because of you.”
A long wind rose outside. In the distant sky, the Blood Tower loomed in and out of sight. The resentful spirit flowers bloomed in a dim, eerie glow, their crimson blossoms carried by the wind towards the far edge of the heavens.
Countless wraiths seemed to weep and murmur. Not quite crying, not quite laughing, as though lamenting the youth who did not yet realise that the road ahead was named abyss.
A cluster of resentful spirit flowers fell at the doorway. Lin Shijin remained silent for a long while.
At last, he murmured something under his breath, his voice low. A soft touch came to rest upon his head. Fuheng fell silent for a moment.
“You will soon know the answer.”
Lin Shijin’s lips tightened. A vast sense of dread rose within him. He looked at the still unconscious Sheng Rufei, then buried himself against Sheng Rufei’s chest, staring at his profile.
“Shixiong, when will you wake? You never tell me anything.”
“So stubborn.”
Lin Shijin lay against his chest, lingering there as he liked to do. Then, remembering Sheng Rufei’s injuries, he sat up again and replaced the handkerchief.
By evening, he was still seated by the bedside when a tremendous humming sound suddenly echoed from the distant sky.
It was like the wail of some colossal beast, vibrating until his ears rang with pain. His temples throbbed. He hastily stuffed something into his own ears, then covered Sheng Rufei’s ears as well.
Even the room seemed to tremble. Lin Shijin held him carefully, afraid of jarring his wounds. Only after a long while did the sound subside.
“Fuheng, what was that just now?”
“The Blood Tower has opened. If you wish to leave, you must enter it.”
“Qiushui is there as well.”
A vague thought formed in Lin Shijin’s mind, though he did not dare confirm it. It was common knowledge that Qiushui belonged to Fuheng.
The soul following him had guided him towards the Qiushui Sword, knew the Wusheng Sword Intent, and even knew where Qiushui would appear.
Only yesterday, he had told Sheng Rufei that Fuheng could not possibly be related to Immortal Lord Fuheng. Whether that would come back to bite him, he would know once he entered the Blood Tower.
He released Sheng Rufei, still uneasy, and went outside to check the barrier again. Only after confirming that nothing had stirred did he return.
The moment he sat back down beside Sheng Rufei, a taut string seemed to tighten in his chest, drawing ever tighter with the passing of time, as though it might snap at any moment.
When his fingertips brushed Sheng Rufei’s forehead again, the youth leaning against the wall slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment, Lin Shijin did not react. Then an overwhelming surge of joy washed over him.
“Shixiong.”
His voice caught in his throat. Forgetting entirely that Sheng Rufei was injured, he threw himself straight into his arms.
“Shixiong, you’re finally awake. Do you know how badly you frightened me?” He clung to him, reaching up to touch his forehead again. It was still warm, but no longer frighteningly so.
“You suddenly fainted. I was so afraid. I told you to rest for a few days and let your wounds heal, but you would not listen…” Lin Shijin rambled on, his voice soft and faintly aggrieved, gentler than usual.
The youth in his arms touched his back lightly. At the sound of Sheng Rufei’s cough, Lin Shijin tensed at once and tried to pull away, only to be pressed back down.
Sheng Rufei held him fast, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m fine.”
Lin Shijin caught the strangeness in his tone. He looked up, brushing his fingers against Sheng Rufei’s palm. It was damp with cold sweat.
“Did you have a nightmare, shixiong?”
Sheng Rufei did not reply. Instead, he clasped Lin Shijin’s fingers. The flush on his face had faded, leaving a sickly pallor that made his features appear even more striking, touched with a fragile beauty.
After a long while, he said, “No.”
“Then…” Lin Shijin began, drawing his hand back to touch his forehead again.
At the moment he tried to withdraw, he suddenly felt an extremely oppressive, morbid presence, like a vast beast fixing its gaze upon him.
As though, the instant he pulled away, it would lunge forward, crush his fragile throat, and devour him whole.
Lin Shijin was no fool. There were only the two of them here. What that meant needed no explanation.
A sharp sense of danger shot up his spine. He froze at once, not daring to move.
He met Sheng Rufei’s gaze. Sheng Rufei remained silent, merely looking down at him, his lashes dark as ink, his eyes deep and unfathomable.
“Then why were you frowning just now?” Lin Shijin’s heart pounded wildly, though he forced himself to remain outwardly calm, sitting stiffly at his side.
Not daring to move at all.
“Because I had a nightmare,” Sheng Rufei said.
He still held him in place. His fingers slowly moved over Lin Shijin’s back through the fabric, tracing downward until they came to rest at the base of his spine.
“But you just said you didn’t,” Lin Shijin said, guessing that it must have been something unpleasant he had instinctively denied.
Suppressing the discomfort at his back, he clutched at Sheng Rufei’s robe and asked, “Shixiong, I changed your dressings earlier. Do you feel unwell anywhere?”
“You were burning up just now. It’s better now. Do your wounds hurt?”
Sheng Rufei kept his gaze on him. “No pain,” he said, then, “Nothing,” answering both questions.
“Then what nightmare did you have?”
The youth in his arms was obedient and gentle, his voice soft as a spring breeze brushing past the ear.
Sheng Rufei recalled the scenes from his dream. His fingers pressed lightly against Lin Shijin’s tailbone, concealing the emotions in his eyes.
“I didn’t have a nightmare.”
Lin Shijin fell silent. A trace of annoyance rose in him. Sheng Rufei was clearly toying with him.
“You say you did, and then you say you didn’t. Are you teasing me?”
“And your injuries too. You would not tell me, just endured it on your own.”
He was genuinely upset. He did not want Sheng Rufei to hide everything from him, nor to bear so much alone.
“I know that telling me might only make things worse, but you should at least talk it through with me. Otherwise I know nothing at all.”
“I’m worried about you.”
As he spoke, the grievance in his chest swelled. Thinking of those wounds, so severe, yet dismissed so lightly, his chest felt tight and sore, as though something heavy had been forced into it.
“If you do this again, I will not care about you any more.”
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. The moment they fell, Sheng Rufei’s expression shifted.
The air around him turned suddenly dark and oppressive. His beauty became cold and chilling, like a revenant crawling up from the depths.
A metallic sweetness rose in his throat. Countless dark thoughts surged forth, his blood seeming to freeze even as it boiled.
When he spoke, his voice was low and utterly cold. “Say that again.”
Lin Shijin regretted it immediately.
He watched as Sheng Rufei’s face grew paler, clearly angered. The hand at his waist tightened too much, squeezing the breath from him.
His earlier bravado collapsed at once. He wanted to shrink into himself and hide in Sheng Rufei’s arms, yet a stubborn streak remained. After all, Sheng Rufei would not truly harm him.
So he repeated it, softly.
“If you keep hiding everything from me… then I will not care about you any more.”
The room fell completely silent.
