Lin Shijin remained silent for a long while. He met Feng Rugao’s gaze, where countless emotions intertwined, an intensity that seemed almost capable of burning.
After a long pause, he spoke softly. “Since Shizun already knows the answer, why ask me?”
The dead branches in the grove nearby had all fallen. Qiushui Sword stood quietly. Feng Qing seemed as if he wished to speak, yet held back. The two faced each other in silence.
“I will not abandon him,” Lin Shijin said.
“Or does Shizun intend, as before, to take me away by force?”
The air grew colder. Feng Rugao tightened his grip slightly.
A terrifying force pressed against Lin Shijin’s wrist. He lifted his gaze, his expression restrained, his eyes indifferent. After a long silence, he finally broke free completely. Then he turned and stepped into the courtyard.
From this day onward, unless absolutely necessary, it would be best if they never met again.
Lin Shijin entered the courtyard. The barrier outside silently spread open. As he stepped inside, he paused briefly, catching sight of a dark stain by the wall. His heart tightened, and he crossed the distance in a few quick strides, entering the room.
He had tidied the bed earlier, leaving only a wooden board. Now Sheng Rufei was leaning against the wall. At some point he had woken, his face pale, the wounds on his body split open again.
Lin Shijin saw the thick, dark blood. It struck the eye harshly. His chest tightened as though seized. Reaching the bedside, his lips moved slightly.
“You went out just now?”
Sheng Rufei’s face was pale. A new mark of the curse had appeared at his temple, deepening his already severe features. His lips were drained of colour. Whatever emotion lay in his eyes was concealed. He did not answer.
“Why did you not call me when you went out?” Lin Shijin’s tone softened with concern. He could hold himself steady before Feng Rugao, but before Sheng Rufei his true nature surfaced without restraint. Seeing those reopened wounds unsettled him more than if they had been his own.
“The wounds have split again,” he said, a trace of irritation beneath the worry. He touched Sheng Rufei’s fingertips, lips drawn tight. “You are injured and still refuse to behave.”
A cool sensation passed through Sheng Rufei’s fingertips. The youth’s expression was vivid, his worry and grievance plain to see. Sheng Rufei’s fingers moved slightly, yet he remained silent for a long time.
“You always pretend not to hear me,” Lin Shijin said more quietly, as he re-bandaged the wounds.
“At just now I went out because Shizun and Feng Qing came. He asked if I would go with him. How could I possibly go?” Lin Shijin’s hands moved more deftly now, though the bandaging still looked clumsy.
“Qiushui is guarding outside. They cannot come in. I do not know how he found us. When your injuries are better in a few days, we should move somewhere else.”
He paused, then added casually, “You are not still worried that I might run off with someone else, are you?”
It was an offhand remark. Though Sheng Rufei was taciturn and slow to speak, his thoughts were sometimes easy to read. Lin Shijin could never quite understand what jealous notion he was harbouring.
Or perhaps it was simply a lack of security, as though Lin Shijin might leave at any moment.
He looked up and met Sheng Rufei’s gaze. Sheng Rufei’s fingers shifted slightly. He had been seen through.
“Really?” Lin Shijin let out a faint, exasperated breath. Forgetting entirely that Sheng Rufei was injured, he reached out and tugged lightly at his ear.
“You spend all day thinking nonsense.”
“Shizun can protect you better,” Sheng Rufei said at last, his voice hoarse and cold. “Right now… I do not have the ability to protect you.”
Lin Shijin froze for a moment.
Meeting Sheng Rufei’s eyes, he had not thought much of it before, but hearing those words now, all the pent-up grievance surged forward, pressing painfully against his chest.
“Sheng Rufei… do you think I like you because you can protect me?”
“Why do you never trust me? If you keep saying things like this, one day I might truly leave in anger.”
His voice grew muffled. The grievances he had borne before seemed nothing compared to this. He had tried so hard, poured so much care into that unresponsive block of wood, yet that same person kept pushing him away.
As he spoke, his eyes reddened. His lashes trembled, and tears began to fall, one after another.
Sheng Rufei’s fingers tightened. At the words “one day I might truly leave”, his breath faltered. The metallic sweetness in his throat surged, impossible to suppress, and his face grew even paler.
His gaze lowered. The redness at the youth’s eyes stung him. Each tear felt as though it fell upon his own heart, searing.
A rough touch brushed Lin Shijin’s cheek. Sheng Rufei wiped away his tears with his fingers, the calluses at his fingertips making the gesture clumsy.
At that touch, Lin Shijin’s heart ached even more. He caught Sheng Rufei’s wrist and refused to let go, throwing himself into his arms. His tears fell harder, his throat tight with sobs.
“Can’t you trust me a little? I don’t like them, I even rather hate them… I don’t understand why they keep clinging to me. I don’t remember anything.”
“The little I do remember is all about Shixiong. I don’t care about anyone else, so I won’t remember them either.”
Lin Fuheng: “…” So not remembering him meant he simply wasn’t important.
“You’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you, Sheng Rufei. Aren’t you usually clever? Why are you getting more foolish by the day?”
Lin Shijin tugged at Sheng Rufei’s sleeve, carefully avoiding his wounds, even smearing tears and snot onto his clothes.
“Why do you let yourself suffer like this? You go to such lengths to be good to me, and now that you’re hurt, you still want to watch me go to someone else. What exactly are you trying to gain?”
As he spoke, he noticed thick, dark blood seeping through the bandages on Sheng Rufei’s back. His fingertips touched it. The youth holding him stayed silent for a long while, only gently supporting him, afraid he might slip.
Sheng Rufei held the youth in his arms. The boy always cried in front of him, far more than usual, soft and clingy. It had only taken a single sentence, and now he was clinging again.
Pain throbbed faintly through his wounds, yet his chest softened. Once his fingers touched the youth, he found he didn’t want to let go.
“You’ll suffer greatly if you stay with me…”
“I’m afflicted by a curse. I may not have long left.”
His voice was soft. Before he could finish, a gentle touch pressed against his lips. The youth’s fingers silenced the rest of his words.
“Don’t talk nonsense. I’ll make sure you live to a hundred,” Lin Shijin said, his eyes shining with resolve, his voice thick with emotion. For a fleeting moment, a cold aura spread around him.
“If the curse cannot be broken,” Lin Shijin said quietly, touching Sheng Rufei’s forehead, “then I’ll kill the one who cast it.”
“There will be a way. I won’t let you leave me.”
Lin Shijin met Sheng Rufei’s gaze. Beneath the usual coolness was a trace of softness. Worried Sheng Rufei might say something ominous again, he lightly tapped his lips.
“Don’t speak for now. I’m angry.”
His fingers lingered briefly on Sheng Rufei’s lips before withdrawing. When Sheng Rufei stayed silent, he was pleasing to look at. The moment he spoke, he became infuriating.
“Don’t move about. Your wounds will reopen.” Lin Shijin reached to loosen his clothing. The most serious injury lay at his chest, where the bandages were already stained dark.
Just as his fingers touched, Sheng Rufei caught his hand, lips tightening slightly. “I’ll do it myself.”
“And your back. I saw it already when you fainted. What is there to hide?” Lin Shijin found it baffling. He wiped away his tears with Sheng Rufei’s sleeve, quickly steadying himself. He decided he couldn’t indulge him and directly pulled open his inner garments.
Sheng Rufei: “…”
The clothes were torn open. Lin Shijin, thick-skinned as ever, didn’t notice Sheng Rufei’s slight displeasure. Even if he had, he likely wouldn’t have cared. He himself had only just been upset. Sometimes Sheng Rufei’s awkwardness made no sense to him.
He deftly replaced the bandages. Fine black runes spread around the wounds. Whether illusion or not, they seemed to recoil slightly when touched by his fingers. The runes that had been corroding the wound quieted the moment he touched them.
“Shixiong, these runes seem to be afraid of me,” Lin Shijin said curiously. “Is it because of Qiushui?”
Sheng Rufei looked. The black runes were indeed trembling, avoiding the youth’s touch.
Qiushui was a rare malevolent sword, specialised in suppressing such things.
Lin Shijin released a strand of spiritual energy and called it back. “Qiushui, come here.”
Outside the courtyard.
Feng Rugao still stood there. The sword before him vanished in an instant. He closed his eyes, suppressing the surging emotions within. His form grew faint, and with a soft sound, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“Sword Master—”
Qiushui, who had been secretly watching from the corner, saw one coughing blood and the other being led away. Relieved, it responded brightly in its childish voice, “Master!”
A flash of sword light flickered. The black iron sword appeared inside the room. Qiushui glanced at the familiar figure on the bed, a silver-haired youth with striking beauty, almost like a bewitching spirit. This troublesome figure had once again entangled itself with its master.
It kept its suspicions to itself and obediently replied, “Master.”
Lin Shijin was far less courteous. He dragged Qiushui over and tested it. As expected, the curses grew even more fearful, practically shrinking in place.
Unfortunately, fear alone could not disperse them.
“Shixiong, did you see? These curses are afraid of Qiushui.” Lin Shijin sounded a little surprised. At least it was useful. He stuffed the sword into Sheng Rufei’s arms. “Stay here for now. Don’t let the curse spread into his wounds.”
Qiushui protested, “Master, I can’t stay here forever.”
Sheng Rufei suddenly found a cold sword thrust into his arms. A faint pressure emanated from it, and he could clearly sense its hostility. This sword did not like him.
“Stay here.” Lin Shijin noticed its small movements and tapped the blade in warning. “If his wounds don’t improve within two days, I’ll throw you into the Cleansing Pool.”
As a malevolent sword, Qiushui feared holy water the most. Being immersed in it would be torture.
At this, Qiushui shuddered, its voice turning aggrieved as it whimpered. “Master, I don’t like the Cleansing Pool. How can you treat me like this?”
Lin Shijin’s tone was cool. “Acting spoiled won’t help.”
No idea where it had learnt to cry so much.
Lin Shijin carefully observed the wounds. The curse had indeed stopped spreading. Though healing remained slow, at least they wouldn’t reopen so easily.
“Shixiong, do they still hurt?” His tone softened immediately when addressing Sheng Rufei, gentle and full of concern, entirely different from the strictness he showed Qiushui.
Qiushui: “…” This is completely unfair.
Lin Fuheng glanced at Qiushui, who looked as though it might start sobbing harder, and let out a cold, mocking scoff.
Hearing that familiar scoff, Qiushui trembled again. Another annoying rival competing for favour. Absolutely insufferable.
