Lin Shijin looked at Sheng Rufei. Under his gaze, Sheng Rufei paused for a long moment before saying, “After the vital yang energy was released, it returned to normal.”
Lin Shijin froze at this, then belatedly felt heat rush to his face. One had flushed cheeks, the other reddened ears. His thoughts began to wander wildly as his hand was lifted; Sheng Rufei was applying medicine to his fingertips.
They were mottled with bruises, some left by the red threads binding him. He had not felt the pain at the time, but now it surfaced all at once, and his fingers twitched slightly.
A silver-gilt ring was slipped onto his finger. After a moment of blushing, he asked, “What does this sacred relic do?”
“And… how did you kill the Illusion Serpent?”
By all reasoning, the Illusion Serpent was a ninth-rank demonic beast; Sheng Rufei’s cultivation should not yet have reached that level.
“I do not know for now,” Sheng Rufei said. “But it is certainly no ordinary object. As for the serpent, I killed it because it shed tears.”
He seemed thoughtful. “Illusion Serpents are born without tears. It may be that when they cry, a fatal weakness is revealed, which is why they never do.”
“Yesterday… when I went out, it was crying. It could not move, so I killed it in passing.”
“In passing…” Lin Shijin echoed inwardly, at a loss for words. “Then why did it cry?”
Sheng Rufei did not answer. He lowered his gaze, carefully applying the medicine. The ointment appeared to be his own making, a dark, roughly ground paste.
Yet it carried a pleasant fragrance, the same scent as Sheng Rufei himself, like fallen plum blossoms.
“It should be because… you did not kill me.”
Sheng Rufei applied medicine to his other hand, then to his neck. Seeing him about to undo his robe, Lin Shijin pushed him away.
“I’ll do the rest myself. You’re not to take off my clothes.”
He intended to go out and have a look. Bracing himself against the wall, he stood, though his legs felt weak.
He went out first. Sheng Rufei moved to support him, but at a glare from Lin Shijin, he did not dare approach. Lin Shijin steadied himself and climbed out of the underground chamber on his own.
Outside lay the corpse of the Illusion Serpent. A large gash had been cut at the vital point, and its blood flowed deep blue, like dark, lustrous molten metal, carrying a faint metallic tang.
Lin Shijin tried walking a few steps. At first his legs were unsteady, but he soon adjusted, a quiet sense of relief rising within him.
Fortunately, he could still walk. Otherwise, it would have been far too embarrassing.
He cast another glance at the culprit. Sheng Rufei followed behind him, his gaze still lingering. When Lin Shijin turned, their eyes met at once.
He recoiled as though scalded, quickly turning away, then realised something was wrong with himself. Why was he so embarrassed? He was the one who had been taken advantage of.
He was the one in pain. Sheng Rufei, on the other hand, had clearly been satisfied. He himself had been toyed with until he fainted.
Thinking of this, he turned back with a displeased look. Sheng Rufei stood behind him, still holding his belongings, looking very much like a dutiful shadow.
Lin Shijin wanted to pick a fault, but could not think how. He was slow to react, and after staring at Sheng Rufei’s face for a moment, his own face heated again.
So he simply stopped looking at him and examined the Illusion Serpent’s corpse instead. Its eyes remained open in death, blood tears still clinging within them. Its vertical pupils were slightly dilated, fixed towards the direction of the throne even in its final moments.
Who would have thought that a ninth-rank demonic beast had no tears, not by nature, but because tears were its fatal weakness?
Most of the serpent’s body lay in the main hall of the underground palace, no longer coiled around the beams, and so the murals above were now clearly visible.
Lin Shijin followed them with his gaze. The story depicted was simple. A great flood ravaged the land, and a serpent demon slipped into the cities of the Three Thousand Worlds. Once obsessed with power and control, he fell in love with a human. The human race suffered under the serpent’s devastation, yet at that moment, he developed feelings, willing to abandon everything to be with them. The human resisted at first, but was eventually moved, and the two came together.
Yet when the serpent revealed his true form, he was met with a sword through the heart.
The serpent demon was nailed to the throne.
Lin Shijin pondered this, then looked again at the corpses hanging from the beams. They were suspended separately, their hearts pierced and placed together, leaving only bloody hollows in their chests.
Whenever several disciples entered together, one would be transformed into a serpent demon. Leaving aside lovers, even friends, kin, or fellow disciples could rarely withstand such a test.
Humans were inherently fearful of the other. With only slight manipulation from the illusion array, they could easily falter and turn upon one another. And there was the added temptation of the sacred relic.
Thus, many perished on the very first level. Yet there must also have been those who endured. Otherwise, this level of the Blood Tower would never have been passed at all.
When they first entered, the Illusion Serpent had not attacked. Only now did Lin Shijin realise that the trial had likely already begun at that moment.
Then why had the serpent wept? Because he and Sheng Rufei had not turned on each other?
“Shixiong,” Lin Shijin said, “yesterday you mentioned that when disciples enter, one of their companions may be assimilated by the serpent demon. On the surface, it seems that piercing the demon’s heart allows one to leave the illusion array?”
“Mm,” Sheng Rufei replied. “It is a deliberate deception. The murals on the beams were originally concealed; only after killing the Illusion Serpent do they appear. Most disciples would not notice. Moreover, what we saw upon entering easily leads to misunderstanding.”
With the tip of his sword, he lifted the robe of one of the hanging corpses, revealing densely packed silver scales beneath.
Lin Shijin had not noticed this before; he had been too busy fleeing to examine anything closely.
“Then the serpent wept because of us?”
Sheng Rufei glanced at the mural above. The implication was obvious. The serpent had been loyal to its master, whose heart had been pierced after revealing his true form in love.
But as for the two of them… Lin Shijin had never harboured any intent to harm Sheng Rufei, not even when he had taken on a half-serpent form.
Lin Shijin felt this had nothing to do with him. If anything, Sheng Rufei had only become more beautiful in that form, and naturally alluring. It was no exaggeration to say he had been bewitched.
Perhaps he alone had been more captivated by beauty than frightened.
Only afterwards did he feel a trace of embarrassment. Others came to the Blood Tower for proper trials; his experience had taken a decidedly strange turn.
As he was thinking, he remembered something and turned to the first mural.
Previously obscured, it now revealed more detail. Besides the serpent demon, there were three figures.
Three men, all faceless. One wore a hooded robe with red earrings. Another carried a sword and seemed difficult to approach. And the third…
Lin Shijin looked at the mural, then down at himself. The man wore a jade clasp, a dark sword at his waist, and held a flower, as though about to tuck it behind the ear of the man with earrings.
Even the placement of the gold embroidery on the sleeves differed… and the gestures felt uncannily familiar.
His eyes widened slightly, as though he had seen a ghost. The mural was at least a thousand years old. His thoughts became muddled.
“Shixiong… can murals also bewitch people?”
Sheng Rufei’s gaze lingered on the image, unsurprised. “It is unlikely to be the illusion array.”
Unless one were intimately familiar, the figures would not be recognised.
Yet Lin Shijin had recognised himself at a glance. The others also seemed faintly familiar, especially the swordsman, who resembled… Feng Rugao.
What had once been obscured was now unmistakable.
“Shixiong, what is this? Why am I in the mural?”
He sounded as though he were asking Sheng Rufei, yet also speaking to himself. He stood dazed, feeling a hand rest lightly on his head.
“You should ask him. He may know.”
The warmth steadied him. Meeting Sheng Rufei’s gaze, he found a quiet reassurance within it.
“Fuheng?”
Lin Fuheng had been silent for a long time, seemingly still in a temper. Lin Shijin was not sure whether he would respond.
“Why shouldn’t you be in it?” Fuheng replied coolly, glancing at the mural. “You came from there to begin with. Time is repeating. You will return again.”
Lin Shijin winced slightly at the pat on his head. The words were obscure, difficult to grasp. “Return? Where would I return to?”
Fuheng did not answer. The presence vanished.
Lin Shijin was left without clarity, unease stirring within him as he looked again at the mural. The three figures seemed shrouded in mist, their blank faces eerily indistinct.
Sheng Rufei touched his fingers. “What did he say?”
“He refused to tell me,” Lin Shijin said, lips pressed thin. “He spoke of time repeating, that I would return. Nonsense.”
He had transmigrated into a book from the real world. Where could he possibly return to?
At his words, Sheng Rufei’s grip tightened slightly, something shifting in his gaze, his presence turning colder.
“Where would I go?” Lin Shijin said, noticing the change. His fingers hurt slightly. “With you here, I’m not going anywhere. Let go first, it hurts.”
Sheng Rufei released him at once, gently rubbing his fingers, his expression shadowed.
He had been perfectly fine moments ago. It was only a single remark, yet Sheng Rufei had become displeased.
“Do you know something?” Lin Shijin leaned closer. “Did Fuheng tell you something else before?”
Sheng Rufei said nothing, only looking at him, his gaze deep.
“Say something,” Lin Shijin urged, tugging at his sleeve. “You never tell me anything. I’m always the only one left in the dark.”
“Others aside, even you keep things from me.”
“Sheng Rufei.”
His voice softened with grievance. Seeing that cold expression, he slowly let go, muttering, “Yesterday you were coaxing me so gently, and today you’ve changed again.”
The moment he withdrew, Sheng Rufei caught his wrist, careful not to grip too tightly.
“I have not hidden anything. Have you noticed anything unusual about yourself?”
Lin Shijin shook his head.
“The Wusheng Sword Intent is not easily learned, yet you grasped it at once,” Sheng Rufei said quietly. “Shizun treats you differently. And the remnant soul around you… is one of the former Three Immortal Lords.”
“Oh,” Lin Shijin replied, scratching his head. “I had already guessed as much. Fuheng’s identity still needs confirming. As for the rest…”
He held onto Sheng Rufei’s fingers, unwilling to release them.
“I don’t care. Whoever I was before, whatever identities I had, whatever ties existed… none of it matters.”
“I am who I am now. I am not anyone else, nor do I wish to be bound to anyone else. I don’t want to concern myself with it.”
“Right now, I only see you, Shixiong. No one else.”
He had sensed as much, but could not be bothered to pursue it. Whether there was more behind his transmigration or not, he had no desire to involve himself.
His thinking was simple. Whatever lay in the past, he only wanted to hold on to the present.
Before, he had only wanted an easy, idle life.
Now… he wanted to protect his shixiong.
