Warm liquid fell onto his wrist. It was Sheng Rufei’s tears.
Lin Shijin froze for a moment. The warmth seemed to sear its way into his chest. His fingertips rested against Sheng Rufei’s back as he patted him lightly twice. At his ear, Qiushui and Lin Fuheng’s angry voices overlapped.
“Master… what are you doing?” Qiushui’s voice turned sharp. They were from different eras, so why was the exact same thing playing out again?
“You’ll die like this… Even if he still has enough reason left to hold back now, can you guarantee how long that reason will last?”
The air around Lin Fuheng had already congealed into ice, his voice cold. “Feeding a beast with your own body? If you indulge him like this, he won’t be grateful. He’ll only tear you apart and turn you into nourishment for himself.”
Neither of them avoided Sheng Rufei, as though they meant for him to hear. Sheng Rufei’s fingers tightened slightly, pale knuckles standing out as if the bones might pierce through the skin.
Lin Shijin paid them no heed. He held Sheng Rufei close, his voice gentle, as though it could smooth over the deepest unrest.
“I know… Shixiong can’t bear to see me hurt. Tomorrow we’ll enter the city together. There will be a way. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll stay with you always, Shixiong. I like you like this as well… Whether you grow fangs or become something else, I… will never abandon you.”
Sheng Rufei… he could never bring himself to let him go.
Holding him, he caught the scent of blood. It seeped down the front of his robes. His shoulder sank slightly as his fingers followed the trail.
He prised open Sheng Rufei’s lips. Inside was a mangled mess of flesh and blood.
Sheng Rufei had refused to bite him, and had instead bitten his own tongue to shreds.
Lin Shijin faltered for only an instant before steadying himself, telling Qiushui to fetch medicine and pain-relieving herbs.
Qiushui said, “His healing ability is stronger than usual right now. It’ll recover quickly.”
Before he could finish, Lin Shijin shot him a glance. Qiushui immediately fell silent and obediently went to fetch the medicine.
The tip of the tongue was difficult to bind. Lin Shijin found a pear leaf, coated it with the juice of the pain-relieving herb and medicinal powder, and placed it in Sheng Rufei’s mouth.
Holding him, his fingertips brushed against Sheng Rufei’s fangs. Just before the newly grown fangs, there was a deep crimson wound that had yet to heal.
His fingers paused briefly. He cast a healing spell over it, and the wound slowly began to close.
Moonlight filtered through the window frame. The two youths held each other on the ground. A thin, chill mist veiled the sky, and the entire courtyard fell silent.
…
Outside the gates of Buye City.
Five Spirit-Building Platforms stood here, each one guarded by a scourge-slayer.
There was a separate entrance into the city, shielded by a barrier that prevented malevolent beings from entering. Yet many were ensnared and devoured before ever reaching it; those who survived were, for the most part, cultivators.
At dawn, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, a figure appeared before the platforms. Judging by his build, he was a young man. He wore a bamboo hat, held a pitch-black sword, and carried on his back… a puppet of similar size.
The puppet was carved with lifelike precision, its features sharply defined. Dark hair intertwined with the young man’s as it rested against his back, exuding a still, muted presence.
Carrying the puppet, the young man stepped across the first platform, the second, the third… all five in succession.
At last, he came to stand before them.
The puppet on Lin Shijin’s back was Sheng Rufei’s. Within it resided Sheng Rufei’s soul; his physical body remained outside the city, placed somewhere safe.
Banners bearing the emblem of a long sword hung high. A scourge-slayer stepped forward to inspect the puppet. Lin Shijin set it down. Through the veil, he recognised a familiar face: Yue Han, the scourge-slayer who had once followed Cui Haoxue.
After finding nothing amiss, the scourge-slayer returned the puppet. Lin Shijin hoisted it back onto his back. Yue Han’s gaze lingered on him as he slipped a brocade pouch into his hand.
“My master asked me to give this to you. He had matters to attend to a few days ago and went to another city.”
Lin Shijin’s fingers shifted slightly. He said nothing, took the pouch, and stepped into the city.
The so-called inner city was all but inaccessible. Only those within could come out; for outsiders, entering it was exceedingly difficult.
The city looked much as it always had. The puppet behind him looped its arms around his neck. He opened the pouch. Inside was a slip of paper.
Only a single line was written:
—Mianmian, if you change your mind, come and find me at any time.
Lin Shijin made no effort to hide it from the youth behind him. The next moment, his neck was bitten. The puppet’s barbs pricked into his skin, sending a sharp pain through him. He burned the pouch and the note without hesitation.
“Don’t start,” Lin Shijin said, tugging at the puppet’s hanging hair. “You’re heavy. Once we reach somewhere the scourge-slayers can’t see, you’ll get down and walk yourself.”
The puppet said nothing. It merely pressed a kiss to his ear, then released a faint chill, mimicking his usual manner as it lightly tugged at his earlobe.
He used to tug at Sheng Rufei’s ears when he rode on his back. Now the roles were reversed. His lips tightened slightly, but he said nothing.
It had been a long time since Sheng Rufei had come out, and he seemed somewhat curious about his surroundings. At a corner, Lin Shijin set him down. Next, he would head straight for the Ninefold Workshop.
The Ninefold Workshop was a place where information was traded across the Three Thousand Worlds. Any secret or treasure could be obtained, so long as one could pay the price.
In truth, he had little money. Only some medicinal herbs gathered from the marshes along the way, and demon bones Sheng Rufei had carved out for him.
If it came to it… he brushed his fingers over the Qiushui Sword. If there was no other way, he would have to pawn it.
The Qiushui Sword, sensing its master’s thoughts: “!!!”
He led Sheng Rufei to the entrance of the Ninefold Workshop and let go.
“Shixiong, wait here. I’ll be out shortly,” Lin Shijin said, meeting the puppet’s deep gaze before stepping forward to touch the corner of Sheng Rufei’s lips. “It won’t take long.”
Before he could step back, his wrist was caught. Sheng Rufei spoke, his voice slightly hoarse. “Don’t forget what you said yesterday.”
They had planned to enter the city the next day, but had been delayed by several days. Yesterday, Lin Shijin had promised to tell him, though Sheng Rufei could not accompany him inside.
“I know. Don’t worry, Shixiong.”
Lin Shijin noticed Sheng Rufei glancing at the nearby shops. He took out several spirit stones from his robes, ones Sheng Rufei had given him earlier, and placed them into his hands.
Sheng Rufei stood there, holding them.
“Don’t wander off,” Lin Shijin added, before stepping into the Ninefold Workshop.
The Ninefold Workshop existed in every city of the Three Thousand Worlds’ main domain. Its master was said to be extremely mysterious.
A maid came to receive him. He passed through a long corridor. Though it was daytime, the interior was dim, lamps lit along both sides casting a faint, wavering glow.
He was led to the main hall. It was even darker there. Screens obscured much of the view, leaving only vague silhouettes and a statue behind them.
Incense burned in the air. Familiar with the rules, Lin Shijin waited as an attendant beside him spoke.
“What do you seek?”
Lin Shijin could not see the figure clearly. After a brief silence, he replied, “A method to break an evil curse.”
The hall fell quiet. Many must have come seeking the same thing. Everyone knew such curses could not be undone, yet everyone still clung to a sliver of hope.
“As all know… an evil curse cannot be broken,” the attendant said softly. “This is as difficult as ascending to the heavens. What can you offer in exchange?”
Lin Shijin had nothing. What he considered valuable would be ordinary to them.
He bowed slightly, fingers taut. “Everything I possess is yours to take.”
“Your soul was once gravely damaged. Your body bore an evil curse, now already lifted… Are you asking on behalf of another?”
Lin Shijin did not answer. He had no habit of speaking of his past. He simply waited.
“Are you truly willing to exchange anything? I have no way to break the curse… but I do have a method to delay his transformation into something inhuman.”
“If you agree, in three days’ time, I will take one item from you.”
…
Sheng Rufei remained where he was, noticing the pastry stalls nearby. There were sweets, sugar figurines, fried cakes, salted crisps… things the youth would usually like.
Now in a puppet’s body, his movements easily drew attention. Fortunately, he wore a hooded robe that concealed his face.
Holding the spirit stones, he went to a pastry stall and bought several kinds, along with a few other treats. They smelled sweet, still warm in his hands. The youth would surely like them.
His movements were stiff, mechanical. When someone accidentally bumped into him, he avoided it, but the pastries and freshly made sugar figurines scattered across the ground.
The person apologised. Sheng Rufei’s lips tightened, a chill radiating from him as he bent to pick them up. Just as his fingers were about to touch them—
A passing child, too excited to notice, stepped on them.
His fingers halted.
He looked up. The child’s face was full of apology. Slowly, he stood and bought another portion.
This time, the sugar figurine had not set properly and melted in his palm. The puppet’s senses were shared; pain spread across his hand.
He stared at his palm for a long time.
Several red welts rose on his palm. The scene before his eyes seemed to freeze; every face was veiled in a layer of black mist, and in the corners, faint crane-feather patterns flickered in and out of sight.
He stood surrounded, as indistinct whispers murmured at his ear.
“He went to make a deal with the master of the workshop for your sake… and you’re here buying pastries?”
“You disaster, you’re going to get him killed.”
“Why does a useless thing like you deserve to live? Don’t you know you’ll only drag him down? Why won’t you give up?”
“As long as you remain, he will suffer… Without you, he would be far better off.”
His fingertips trembled slightly; the pain made him draw them back. Sheng Rufei stood where he was, the voices fading entirely from his ears. The pastries lay smashed beyond recognition on the ground. His arms were empty.
Lin Shijin stepped out of the Ninefold Workshop. He placed the scroll he had obtained into his storage ring and brushed a hand over the corner of his eye. Fuheng’s cold voice echoed in his ears.
“Have you truly thought this through? Is it really worth it, for his sake?”
“Why do you never consider that without him, there would be others? Your life is still long…”
Preoccupied with Sheng Rufei, Lin Shijin cut him off. “Without him, there would be no ‘after’ in my life.”
Why did those around him always forget that all of this was something he ought to have borne in the first place?
He understood that Qiushui and Fuheng were simply too partial to him. He said nothing further. Since Fuheng knew but would not tell him, he would find a way himself.
Just a pair of eyes, in exchange for prolonging Sheng Rufei’s time. To him, it was worth it.
He stepped out of the Ninefold Workshop, not seeing anyone at the entrance. His gaze instinctively shifted into the distance, where, amidst the crowd, he spotted a familiar figure.
The youth stood with his back to him, staring at his own fingertips, as though lost in thought, his expression faintly distant.
There was no approach, no words, no movement of any kind, and yet, simply seeing him standing there, Lin Shijin felt an inexplicable ache in his chest.
“Shixiong—”
At his call, time seemed to still. The suppressed tension in the youth’s features slowly faded. He turned to look at him, and in that instant, he seemed to come alive.
Lin Shijin fixed the image of Sheng Rufei turning back towards him in his mind. He still had three days. Three days should be enough to adjust. As though nothing were amiss, he walked over.
“Shixiong, did you come here to buy me pastries?”
His gaze fell upon the scattered sweets on the ground, and he understood at once. Noticing something else, his eyes paused briefly as he reached out and caught Sheng Rufei’s wrist.
“You managed to burn your hand just picking up pastries?” Lin Shijin sounded faintly displeased. “Since when did Shixiong become as clumsy as me?”
After speaking, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet Sheng Rufei’s eyes. Sheng Rufei looked at him, momentarily distracted.
His fingers stilled. His voice was hoarse as he lowered his gaze. “I dropped them by accident.”
“If they’re dropped, they’re dropped. We’ll buy more in a moment. Next time, don’t grab them straight out of the pan, they’ll be very hot. When we get back, I’ll apply some medicine for you…”
The boy’s voice was soft as he held Sheng Rufei’s hand and gently blew on it, his expression tender. It was as though the burn on Sheng Rufei’s palm had been smoothed away. His lashes lowered, and a shadow fell silently across his face.
