He stopped himself at the last moment—like before death, legs braced against the small corners, hands gripping the upper wooden sides, spread like a starfish.
The snake webs pulsed from his fingertips, tightening around the wood. His eyes shut, daring not to look down. He was missing the gods more than ever right now.
'Those damn designs. I would cancel them forever once I become the next dàoist.'
'Thank God I'm tall and flexible—or my legs wouldn't even fit at those corners.'
Lìngxiāo's eyes widened. He almost stood up. But Chóng Fēi glared at him—no.
So he had to stay in bed, only managing to whisper faintly, "Why do you need to sneak out from here like being here was something illegal?" Now his fogged eyes showed suspicion laced with the already present curiosity. "Why is Chóng Xiānsheng calling you like that? You have a cousin?"
Of course, not everyone knew about his cousin—because his cousin was the opposite of what Chóng Fēi was. He roamed the city freely like a normal traveler, carefree, never letting anyone know he belonged to this bloodline.
Even Chóng Fēi hadn't known before five years ago that he somehow had a cousin. His father hadn't liked him at first, for some reason—but after some time, he had accepted it. For reasons Chóng Fēi still didn't understand, since none of his uncles liked his father, nor his father them. Yet somehow, his father was the only man from the Chóng generation still alive while they remained young.
Chóng Fēi turned back to the front, sighed, and moved his hand carelessly over the boundary: forget it now. Long story. Tell you later if you wish.
Lìngxiāo didn't press again, getting the same treatment he had given Chóng Fēi. He just mouthed, "Careful. Those are unsafe ordinary needles."
Chóng Fēi nodded and focused on escaping. His room was two chambers away to the left. His balcony was open too. He could probably go back there before this troublemaker got inside. His chest tightened with the fear of those needles and the possibility that his door might be unlocked—and he'd be caught.
Without wasting any time, and not looking at the dangers waiting to kill him, he first managed to draw his snake web and throw it to his own balcony for extra hold. Then he spun and jumped from one balcony to another, landing soundlessly over one railing.
Thankfully, all the disciples were outside their chambers at their duties, so Chóng Fēi saved his dignity from being seen like a thief with skills of silence.
He crossed two balconies successfully and landed safely in front of the balcony door. He exhaled and saw Lìngxiāo was still already at his own balcony, exhaling with just as much relief as Chóng Fēi. His smile was less tense, his hand pushing back his hair from his front as he went back inside.
When Chóng Fēi was about to freely go inside, a soft whimper escaped him as he felt his lungs squeeze painfully at the scene in front of him.
"Strange. Not even at his room?" Zì Hāo said. He was already inside the chamber, having looked around at all possible places where Chóng Fēi could be. He sat on the bed, drinking Chóng Fēi's half-finished favorite wine, his dark gray eyes bored and almost pouting.
'Lord. He's already here!'
Chóng Fēi quickly moved to the other side, hiding from his gaze. His heart was pounding so hard he wondered if it was too loud to be heard. Since his chamber was the only cornered one, he turned to the other side—where his bathhouse lay. His hands trembled like he was climbing mountains, not his own clan.
'I have to get in through my bathhouse, damn it!'
He eyed the window and his own body. The universe kept disappointing him.
'Lord knows if I would fit here or not. It is kind of small. My hips might get stuck.'
But when he heard his cousin moving around the room again, he didn't complain anymore and squeezed himself inside. His hips felt like they were breaking as they scraped against the corners of the window, cracked groans trembling in his throat.
'At least it would be better than any misunderstanding that would take a whole week to cool down.'
'This guy knows how to make anything breaking news. And I? I am already an interesting topic.'
The luxurious bathhouse was cold and slightly dim, speaking of silence—since Chóng Fēi only showered once at night, or twice or three times if those dreams left him shaken. The rest of the day, servants kept it clean at least three times, like cleaning invisible dust.
The tub was right below the window and full of water—no, rose water.
There was no way he could flip up safely without a sound or breaking at least one showpiece attached at the two sides of the window.
Both options were worse than the other.
He stared at the water like it would run away from his cursed look.
'Sometimes I wonder if my luck is actually luck or if it's been written as a ridiculous backstory for a side character. Man, which heir of any clan does these things?'
But there was no other choice. He had to act—even if it was embarrassing. At least it was better than getting caught with Lìngxiāo.
'Lord, all up to you..'
He held his nose, cheeks flushed, eyes shut. Then he fell from the window right into the water with a loud splash. Water splashed everywhere.
Outside, Zì Hāo's shoulders tensed, eyes flying open. The bottle almost fell from his grasp as he stood up. He caught it awkwardly and put it back on the table.
"Chóng Fēi??" He called awkwardly, an eyebrow raised as he looked at the gate of the washroom—slightly open.
Before going toward it, he quickly filled the bottle with water—carefully, half like before, to hide his "half robbery."
Chóng Fēi's heart pounded, but he stayed still in the water, trusting that embarrassing idea anyway.
'Here he goes with his drama again. But I have to act too..'
As Chóng Fēi thought, Zì Hāo held the door handle, his jaw tight, eyes wide with some crazy thought. "What if gēge is trying to suicide?!" He hissed to himself.
"SHÙ FÙ! YOUR SON IS DYING!" He burst into the bathing room like it was on fire, his mouth parted sharply to say something more.
"Eh?" But he froze at the scene. He blinked like he was dreaming.
Before him, Chóng Fēi lay in the tub—in his robe. Soaked through, the robe clinging to his body like he was a statue carved from marble, his eyes shut in a way that looked almost... romantic.
A hand pushed back that stubborn lock of hair. His half-soaked ponytail lay half out and half inside the tub, a few strands clinging to his neck. He held a cup of wine—the one that always stayed even in his bathhouse.
And lastly: a rose between his lips.
His gaze met Zì Hāo's with unbelievable boldness and confidence—like he was performing any shameless romantic character.
"Have I given you permission.. to see me like this..?" Chóng Fēi muttered, his tone composed. Almost sassy—though he wished Zì Hāo wouldn't notice his blush of embarrassment.
'Ridiculous! Ridiculous! Ridiculous!!!!'
Zì Hāo stared. His peacock green eyes wide.
The sword he had been holding fell from his grasp with a clatter.