'Should I.. really tell him.. or not?'
Chóng Fēi blinked thoughtfully, biting his inner cheek. His another mistake was even falling for that 'trick' Lìngxiāo had just used to make him speak about it again.
But still—perhaps he wished to agree to this hauntingly beautiful nightmare. He called it beautiful for the words, and nightmare because even dead, this thing followed him. God knew when it would stop.
"What if.. I don't trust you with this..?" He muttered hesitantly.
"I could have said this to you too.." Lìngxiāo answered back calmly. "But I have told you anyway because you asked it.."
He lightly looked outside the curtain to see how far they were. Before adding, softer but serious, "You do not have to mention everything about the whole person.. but just the incident. I wish to understand you too.."
Chóng Fēi fell silent.
Wished to understand him? It was a rare thing to expect. Besides, there was also his comfort walls—not the whole information of the matter, but only one situation which brought things a bit like this. His wish to understand him made him feel much lighter than he expected.
"Is this for your case..?" Chóng Fēi asked again.
Lìngxiāo wasn't known for really being good at bonding or anything else. He was gentle—yes. But he was also cunning, challenging. Perhaps challenging his father, and he came at the middle of it, so he was pulling him into his matter too.
Lìngxiāo simply shook his head softly. "Nothing is in the case until we reach our destination. Nor it would ever be spelled somewhere unsafe."
'So.. he has kept timing of his staying personal and professional too?'
'But even if it's personal.. what does it have to do with him? Just curious..? Because I'm a heir?'
After thinking a lot in a short time, Chóng Fēi spoke like admitting any sin—but also telling him not to believe it. "Then.. keep your promise. And.. stop looking at me like judging. It wasn't me who ruined my clean name."
"As your wish. You may continue." Lìngxiāo looked back at the bamboo hat, his nails faintly sliding over it.
His acting was like he didn't know how to look without judgment in this matter Chóng Fēi had gotten into. So he better keep those rims of his eyes down.
"I told you.. not to judge. Not said about avoiding my gaze." Chóng Fēi crossed his arms lightly, leaning against the seat.
"Apologies. Play of time." Lìngxiāo answered without looking at him. "You may go on. Time is fading."
Chóng Fēi took a deep breath, his eyes shut like bracing himself. His cheeks felt warm. "T-then.. don't jump if I suddenly grab you.. like any piece of meat."
Lìngxiāo blinked and looked at him. That almost same look from before slapping Chóng Fēi—just bloomed faintly on his face.
Chóng Fēi felt his throat already getting dry—by that look.
'Lord.. is he gonna slap me again? Why does he take everything so straight forward?'
"What??" His other hand unconsciously moved to the cheek he had gotten slapped, and he looked outside again. His tone was gruff but troubled. "I mean.. your arm. Sometimes my muscles react too much by the memories."
'Buy it just.. I can't say if that skull mummy would come back here again if I talk about this guy..'
'It is more a dead wish than any past or trauma to share. But it has been two years of trying to swallow this bitter medicine.'
'Might feel better if released a bit.'
Lìngxiāo also finally relaxed. His shoulders softened, his expression turning almost sympathetic yet a little awkward. His eyes filled up with a faint flash of concern. "Trauma..?"
He nodded shakily. His neck barely moved, veins tensed by what might come. He didn't even know how to explain the situation without saying about the skull mummy. He had to act his best not to let him know—though perhaps he could be the only one who could seal this creature.
But how could he, while it said: I would come back no matter how many times you seal me. I'm beyond your acknowledgment.
But perhaps he could handle the blow if anything happened, because Lìngxiāo was expert with ghosts. He would get saved and feel relieved too, instead of rotting faster everyday.
Rotting slower was less than faster.
"And.." He spoke again when he found an excuse, desperately trying to keep his tone untouched by worry or fear—just arrogance. "This path is heading to a small mountain.. but below is a deep valley underground. The road is narrow. So you may stay ready if you feel anything unusual.."
"The road.." Lìngxiāo looked out from the window at Chóng Fēi's side from a light distance. "I do understand.."
The carriage had just started to climb the mountain. The surrounding was slowly getting covered by a thin layer of smoke.
Lìngxiāo didn't answer yet.
Chóng Fēi watched his slim hand move to the small hole in front of the carriage, which had its tiny cover. He opened it with a soft click and leaned closer.
"Any.. help, Gōngzǐ..?" The driver asked politely. His voice a little trembling out of fear of crossing this path.
"Move steadily. If.. see anything unusual, inform us." Lìngxiāo ordered gently.
The driver nodded once, now feeling much more confident—perhaps thinking they were at least not helpless common people but going with preparation. "Of course, Gōngzǐ.." Then he added hesitantly, "Are you all.. cultivators?"
"Indeed." Lìngxiāo answered. "You do not have to worry. We would not let you get hurt too."
"T-thank you so much, Gōngzǐ." The driver answered, like after the gold, this safety was another big deal he was getting without even asking.
Lìngxiāo closed the tiny door, locked it back, and leaned back to the seat. His gaze met Chóng Fēi's, silently asking him to start his words.
Chóng Fēi cleared his throat lightly, the memories returning to him like rain of swords. His hands were already tensed like panicked animals searching for shelter before the storm. His right hand—where Lìngxiāo wasn't sitting or could directly see—gripped his own robe tightly.
"Before you.. there was one more exorcist who.. wasn't that much famous as you.. but he returned from the temple like a normal arrival." Chóng Fēi started to say. His eyes were open but focused on nowhere.
"Just as your title is Smiling Exorcist.. his title was 'Mummy Exorcist' because of his bandages around his body all the time and bone white hair." He added.
Lìngxiāo listened attentively. He looked like he was trying to guess who this strange titled exorcist could be. But with not enough fame, nobody would write history as his own one was sometimes being written. He didn't interfere.
Chóng Fēi continued, focusing on the actual event of the day.
[Flashback — Two Years Ago]
At afternoon, Chóng Fēi was in his practice room. From pocket knives to war swords, everything was neatly placed at the wooden holders. A few targets for archery stood with old holes from arrows. A red silk fabric was tied at the upside of the ceiling, long enough to touch the ground.
It was for another ritual type activity—done by some complex sword moves displayed like any dance. But mostly done by a pair of people, which required trust to do too, because one held the fabric and the other held them with the sword—an effective group work for fighting.
It was known as the "ballad of swords and spin."
Chóng Fēi was normally practicing his sword moves, memorizing what his sword master had taught him before suddenly vanishing.
His sword moved like a hand fan, moves more effortless than even a few months ago. His neck glittered with a thin sheet of sweat—proof of practicing over time.
Sometimes he turned by the help of the fabric alone—he believed no one to do so. Besides, it was better if he needed no female teacher or anyone else's help here—though his father had sometimes said to hire another sword master, which he didn't want to learn with.
Then at one move, he placed his sword somewhere reachable. Then carefully tangled his arm around the fabric twice while holding it tight.
"This time it has to be done or.. zhù fù might really bring any unwanted guest.." He told himself breathily, then ran while holding it.
The spinning fabric took him high enough to touch the walls like he was running above them. He started to balance himself on it. His heart squeezed in fear of making any mistake again—or worse: breaking any of his arm or leg.
His free hand raised to catch the sword and complete this by remaining eighteen steps. His hand quickly grabbed the sword by the handle, spinning it up to catch better.
"Ah, almost there." He grinned to himself, then left the wall, aiming to tune his pace from circular to front and back.
But when he needed to relax his arm by loosening the knot around his arm and only hold on naturally—he couldn't.
It was stuck tight.
His breath caught, his sweaty eyes wide. If he couldn't control the move properly, he would fall right down there—and who knew if it would be on those swords he didn't even close or the plain floor.
'No no no no! Damn it! Loosen already!!'
He felt the joint of his elbow let out a sharp popping sound from wrong movement—as if his own bones were giving up.
"God, it hurts fucking bad!!" He couldn't handle the pain, and his hand didn't obey him.
He let go of the fabric.
His eyes shut tight. He couldn't even move his hand to draw a web and catch himself.
"So reckless, are you not, little bluish-gray gem..?" A few days familiar voice rang—calm, mature, and almost seductively gentle.
And next—he found himself caught by a single strong arm.
"Got you, Lil prince. Be careful. You are not even married yet." The guy purred.
His eyes flew open, his breath shallow as the first thing he saw was those pale purple eyes and a faint smirk. The young man's other hand was gripping the fabric, his boots joined together over the fabric.
Chóng Fēi stared at him in disbelief, nothing to say. He didn't even need to acknowledge that he was indeed burning with embarrassment.
'What the fuck is he doing or saying?!'