"You do not need to do those or fight with your phobia, Gōngzǐ." Lìngxiāo said softly, managing to sit up and lean against the headboard. "It might not be right for you. I have.. kept it this way because.. unholy places call gûi.. I needed it for the rituals."
Chóng Fēi swallowed hard, his cheeks burning brighter again.
'Um.. why does he speak so openly about my fear? It's embarrassing. I had the needle dose so I would be fine now.'
"H-heh? I am not a child anymore. And I actually don't have a phobia of ghosts. It's only the.. needles." He said with a prideful, awkward smile before moving toward the washroom like he was going to the battlefield.
Lìngxiāo sighed, not pressing further. "As you wish then.. Gōngzǐ.." But he added, "If something calls you from there or you feel touching you.. do not look behind. Just silently come out."
'Oh Lord of Earth. Is he taming gûi in this washroom or something?!'
Chóng Fēi felt like he was reading at least ten holy sentences from their Bible—Tears of Heavenly Earth and Fallen Fate—before steeling himself and going inside shakily.
'If you ghosts have embarrassed me once more.. I will tear you all away..'
He thought, recalling how ridiculous and horrified he had looked when that ghost was pulling him back and Lìngxiāo was trying to catch him. It was so embarrassing that he wanted to bury his face in the soil.
The washroom felt like another tiny, darkest world inside the room. The place was neat, yes—but it carried a strange coldness that no safe place should have.
It felt like those washrooms where dead bodies are bathed—small yet tall, designed differently from any other room in the compound. This room was probably never used before Lìngxiāo arrived, so there was no reason to fix it either.
'Better to do it fast and then leave.'
He quickly started to fill the bowl with water. But strangely, the bowl felt lighter—as if the water was air, something that could easily fly away. He cursed mentally at how slowly it was filling. After what felt like a small battle, he thought the bowl was full and turned to head back.
But then—he found the bowl empty again. Not even wet. As if no water had touched it for days—or years.
Silent panic crept into his chest.
'What the fuck is going on here?!'
'I don't want to know.'
He glanced around from the corners of his eyes. Silence. Nothing but the soft hum of Lìngxiāo's breathing, like a quiet reminder: don't worry, I am here.
He took a deep breath and started filling the bowl again.
"Fucking bowl." He groaned faintly. Again, no water filled it.
"Is everything alright.. Fēi Gōngzǐ..? Why are you taking too long?" Lìngxiāo called from outside softly. His voice was still a little thin from his light sickness, but worry was clear. "I requested you not to. You do not need to take care of me. You are already high-ranked."
Chóng Fēi felt like Lìngxiāo was pinching him with the word "high-ranked"—because earlier they had almost fought over this very thing. So perhaps Lìngxiāo was caring, but also hurt enough to use that word again, even though he didn't seem like the type to speak that way. He hadn't felt it before.
This was personal this time—more than professional.
"Whatever I am. I do because I do. No royalty writes rules for me, so I will do it. Lay down. You were struggling to lift your head earlier." Chóng Fēi replied with full determination and a flicker of care—perhaps trying to fix what had gone wrong. "And I am a little.. bored by this Gōngzǐ Gōngzǐ title. Kindly change it too.. or at least don't repeat it like a puppet."
After all, he hadn't expected to actually crack someone who had seemed effortlessly unbreakable.
Lìngxiāo said nothing.
He just tilted his head toward the washroom, expression thoughtful, before sliding back down to the bed, eyes shutting again. "As you say.. then.."
"Hm.. much better." He muttered back, a little flatly—as something else crept into him more than fear. Something that came with the word loyalty.
'Since the day I was born, it was only rules and rules. Just not the discipline kind. Mǔqīn too many that I don't even know whose womb was mine. Lord knows what more 'gēge' will come out of which fucking corners of this clan like wood bugs.'
A sense of bitterness washed over him just thinking about his family laws—the only insane thing keeping him sane in this strange situation.
Couldn't they stick to one person and have fewer children? His father still seemed ancient enough to find the most fertile woman because he needed to get him married soon—and it felt too early. He was only twenty-one.
That wasn't what he wanted. Not supposed to be.
A faint, bitter yet proud chuckle escaped.
'Wow. I already carry the heaviest useless trauma. And I have to carry it since I have his blood—and I have nothing but this clan with these people.'
His faint laugh clipped into a surprised whimper when he felt a cold hand tap his shoulder. His body curled closer, as if being smaller would help.
"Those fucking gûi have no man to play with." Chóng Fēi shook his head, the edges of his hair damp with sweat, his jaw tight. He was trying hard not to suddenly scream like a girl who saw an ant in the washroom while bathing.
"Hehe.." Something giggled faintly from behind.
His eyes flew open—but he bit his lip and didn't look behind, though he felt wet footsteps drawing closer. He focused on taking water instead, his legs starting to shake.
The sound of water falling from the bowl caught his attention. He looked down closely at the bottom of the bowl.
His eyes widened.
'A-ah..? What the fuck? I was just.. earlier..'
He put his hand in and out—his hand came out the other side. The bottom had vanished. It didn't even look like it had been there before.
He quickly called to Lìngxiāo from the washroom, pouring all his fear into controlled words. "Well, is there any fine bowl? I find no better one."
"Oh." Lìngxiāo echoed, as if his memory had just caught the detail, looked a little suspicious with Chóng Fēi's tone.
But he added anyway."It was really old and useless, Gōngzǐ. One was broken today and another seemed really old. You.. should use the one left in this chamber."