Sheng Rufei’s eyes reflected the youth before him, a faint stir within them. His fingertips traced the skin at the side of the youth’s neck, where the marks he had left still lingered.
“I understand,” Sheng Rufei said, concealing the emotion in his gaze. “Remember what you said.”
Hearing this, Lin Shijin felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding. It seemed that every promise he made had a tendency to collapse.
“Shouldn’t Shixiong be pleased?” Lin Shijin leaned closer. Sheng Rufei had never been one to smile, his emotions always deeply restrained, and even now it was impossible to tell whether he was truly happy.
Sheng Rufei gave a quiet “mm”. “I am.”
“That’s far too perfunctory,” Lin Shijin said, somewhat displeased. Sheng Rufei’s thoughts ran deep, and he considered too much. Lin Shijin reached up, touching the corner of his lips, trying to coax them upwards.
“No matter what happens, you have to tell me. We’ll face it together. Don’t keep everything to yourself.”
They had spoken of this before. Lin Shijin more or less understood what Sheng Rufei was thinking. With so many additional identities involved, if he put himself in Sheng Rufei’s place, if Sheng Rufei had entanglements with Feng Rugao and ties to the Three Immortal Lords—he would feel uncomfortable, pressured, burdened with layers of misgivings.
More than anything, he disliked the idea of the other person having experiences he had not shared.
His fingers still rested at the corner of Sheng Rufei’s lips. Sheng Rufei gave another quiet response.
And that was all. Even when his lips were guided upwards, there was no smile in his eyes. His face remained as expressionless as ever.
The blockhead could only respond with those soft acknowledgements. Lin Shijin’s lips pressed into a straight line. Finding it dull, he let go.
Just as he was about to step back, his wrist was caught again. A subtle change appeared on Sheng Rufei’s cold features. After a long silence, he said, “The people around you are all stronger than I am.”
His indifferent voice softened slightly. “My cultivation is not advancing quickly enough. You will be taken from me.”
Lin Shijin rolled his eyes inwardly. “Do you take me for some prized treasure that everyone covets?”
He met Sheng Rufei’s gaze. There was a faint movement in those eyes, clearly affirming it.
“It should be you,” Lin Shijin said, half exasperated, half amused. He pinched Sheng Rufei’s fingertips. “No matter how strong they are, I won’t like them.”
“And besides…” Lin Shijin felt somewhat puzzled. He had always known Sheng Rufei lacked a sense of security, but now they were already together, had even gone that far, so why did it still remain? “I like you so much. Why are you still worrying about such things?”
His face warmed again. Sheng Rufei might not be good with words, but those dark eyes seemed capable of speaking. When they fixed on him intently, it felt as though they might draw him in.
As his words fell, Sheng Rufei’s aura shifted slightly. The scent of fallen plum blossoms seemed to grow richer. Lin Shijin looked over to see the faint flush at the tips of his ears, his gaze deep and dark.
Silver scales seemed to reappear faintly along Sheng Rufei’s neck. A sense of danger stirred, and Lin Shijin instinctively tried to move away. In the next moment, the silver snake’s tail coiled around him once more.
The cool sensation spread along his skin. Wrapped within the coils, the memory of the previous day surged up from somewhere within him, and he instinctively tried to retreat.
“Shixiong, we still have to leave. We can’t delay here any longer.”
Lin Shijin was afraid Sheng Rufei would drag him back to that underground palace. He had no wish to endure that life-and-death ordeal again.
“And shouldn’t we send word to Mo Yan and the others?”
They had come to scout the way, yet had lost an entire day. Who knew what was happening outside.
As he spoke, Lin Shijin glanced at the snake’s tail. In the darkness of the night before, he had not noticed much, but now its patterns were strikingly beautiful. He reached out to touch it. The tail clung to him, winding itself around his wrist.
His thoughts drifted. On this level, Sheng Rufei had turned into a serpent. There were still the Locust Aspect and the Rat Aspect to come. Would he transform again?
Lost in thought, Lin Shijin did not notice the tail quietly slipping into his robes, nor the low breath that fell by his ear.
“There is no need to send word to Mo Yan,” Sheng Rufei said. “As for the exit, I have already found it.”
Lin Shijin felt that with Sheng Rufei, there was little for him to worry about. Everything had already been arranged. But why did he have to speak so close, even deliberately brushing his ear with a kiss?
“Say that again.”
Lin Shijin was still trying to catch the restless tail, but failed. Trapped in Sheng Rufei’s arms, his ears flushed crimson as he pushed at him. “Let go first.”
Before he could finish, the tail brushed somewhere, and all his strength vanished at once. His waist went weak, and he collapsed into Sheng Rufei’s embrace.
…
They ended up entangled again. Lin Shijin lost count of how many times he said he liked him. He never saw Sheng Rufei smile, yet the coldness in his eyes seemed to melt entirely before him.
When they emerged again, Lin Shijin walked with an awkward, duck-like gait, led along by Sheng Rufei. The exit lay at the final mural along the beam.
“I wonder which level it leads to.”
Sheng Rufei still held his hand. Lin Shijin, slightly annoyed, did not respond, slowly climbing the concealed steps, intending to shake him off and walk alone.
But even walking by himself was difficult now.
He moved slowly, Sheng Rufei still holding his hand. The staircase stretched endlessly ahead, and after only a few steps he was already short of breath.
Standing beside him, Sheng Rufei asked, “Shall I carry you?”
“No,” Lin Shijin shot him a glare. Sheng Rufei immediately looked as though he knew he was in the wrong, restraining his usual coldness, unusually obedient. “I’ll walk myself.”
He took a few more steps, but before he could free his hand, a cool, familiar embrace pressed against him from behind. The scent alone made his legs weaken.
Sheng Rufei simply lifted him up. The passage behind them had already sealed shut. Before Lin Shijin could react, his arms instinctively looped around Sheng Rufei.
“Sheng Rufei, put me down.”
“There are still thousands of steps ahead,” Sheng Rufei said simply, then added, “No one will see.”
“Even so, I want to walk myself. Are you that annoying?”
Lin Shijin had always indulged him and had never lost his temper before. Now his true temperament began to show. He looked at Sheng Rufei, who showed not the slightest impatience.
He merely gave a quiet acknowledgement. Admitting it.
Lin Shijin found himself at a loss for words. He reached up and tugged lightly at Sheng Rufei’s ear. Sheng Rufei’s lips tightened just slightly, with no other reaction.
“It’s all your fault. I can’t even walk properly now.” He tugged again, reddening the ear.
Another quiet response.
“You’re not allowed to kiss me whenever you like,” Lin Shijin declared, beginning to make unreasonable demands.
Sheng Rufei lifted his gaze. Lin Shijin faltered for a moment under that look, then straightened himself again. “Did you hear me?”
Sheng Rufei did not respond.
“Shixiong, don’t pretend you didn’t.”
“Next time you kiss me, you have to ask whether you can.”
Every time Sheng Rufei kissed him, he lost control, and in the end it always turned into him taking the initiative, only to be thoroughly worn out. Even now, walking felt uncomfortable.
Though his body seemed to recover quickly, it was still unpleasant. He could not indulge Sheng Rufei too much.
Sheng Rufei’s lashes lifted slightly. Holding him steadily, he glanced at him, paused, then said, “I cannot help it.”
His voice was low. Sheng Rufei always answered seriously, even casual remarks considered before replying.
Lin Shijin’s face warmed slightly. He looked at Sheng Rufei’s profile for a long moment, then leaned in and kissed him.
“Only I can kiss you.”
Sheng Rufei’s breathing stiffened slightly. He did not agree.
Lin Shijin remained in his arms, bringing along the small silver snake and Jiujiu.
The veil was long gone. It was just the two of them now, and he wore his own face. Jiujiu had been in his storage ring, but once released, it flew back to perch on his head, nestling there.
Jiujiu seemed rather afraid of the small silver snake on his wrist, fluttering and chirping incessantly. The little snake coiled around his wrist, its tongue flicking repeatedly against the inside of it.
“Shixiong, why does it keep licking my wrist?” Lin Shijin said, feeling the dampness. The little snake’s fangs were sharp, and he feared it might bite him, so he pulled it away.
“Because it likes you,” Sheng Rufei replied.
As they continued upwards, Lin Shijin noticed the small snake gradually becoming translucent. Sheng Rufei’s body also changed subtly. The silver scales at his neck faded, and his pupils returned to normal.
“Shixiong, have we left the first level?”
A quiet confirmation.
“We may have gone directly to a higher level. I do not know which one.”
“How many levels are there in the Blood Tower?”
Sheng Rufei shook his head.
The small snake vanished from his wrist. Jiujiu settled down, no longer hopping about, chirping softly by his ear.
“On this level you turned into a snake. Will you transform again on the others?”
Lin Shijin was curious. He touched the last remaining scale at Sheng Rufei’s neck. It faded away, dispersing into the air, his skin returning to normal.
“Probably not,” Sheng Rufei said, pausing slightly as his gaze fell on Lin Shijin. “The higher we go, the more difficult it becomes.”
“The first level already had a ninth-rank beast, though the Illusion Serpent did not harm people, more like a guardian,” Lin Shijin said, leaning close to his ear. “What dangers lie ahead? Could there be something beyond the ninth rank?”
The ninth rank was already the highest. He muttered to himself. Sheng Rufei did not answer. They walked for an unknown length of time. Cradled in his arms, Lin Shijin was almost asleep when Sheng Rufei came to a halt.
Before them stood a door, engraved with ancient patterns. Upon it was the image of a rat seated upon an altar.
It seemed they had skipped the second level entirely and arrived at the third. The rat sat upon the altar, with beady green eyes and dark whiskers. Beneath its feet lay abundant grain, while behind it stretched a city ravaged by plague, corpses strewn everywhere.
This was the highest of the three hells, the Rat Aspect Hell.
After the great flood, the Three Thousand Worlds suffered drought, their harvests exhausted, disease spreading unchecked. Plague swept through the entire city, leaving the people in misery, sinking them into an even deeper hell.
Still in Sheng Rufei’s arms, Lin Shijin gazed at the image as Sheng Rufei pushed the door open.
At the moment it opened, a burst of white light appeared, and he vanished where he stood.
He and Sheng Rufei were separated once more.
When Lin Shijin opened his eyes again, his perspective felt strangely altered. Everything before him seemed magnified several times over. For a moment he was dazed, then slowly took in his surroundings.
He seemed to be in a dried-out rice field.
The trees were thicker than before, the rice stalks taller than him, even the cracks in the earth nearly as wide as his body.
A thought dawned on him. He slowly lowered his head and saw his own dusty-grey body. An unbelievable realisation surfaced.
“Squeak—”
A faint sound escaped his throat.
Lin Shijin’s mind went blank. He nearly fainted on the spot.
He had actually turned into a rat.
